Heaven and Earth
by Shichan-san
Summary: A mother who could manipulate the heavens; a daughter who could manipulate the earth; a father who could negate both Quirks without even blinking. In a world of chaos that's been divided between good and evil, heroes and villains, what is a young hero-in-training to do when she discovers she's half and half? Slow-burner/Slight AU. ShoutaxOC/eventual OCxShouto.
1. Part 1: Naiveté

**ATTENTION: for those of you who have been reading/following/keeping up with this story in any capacity- it has undergone a rewrite as of MONDAY JUNE 12TH. several things have been switched: the chapters are longer, it is now written in first person. after giving it some thought, I decided that I wanted to try first person, as well as flesh out Daichi's character in a slightly different direction. please let me know what you think! anyways, Heaven and Earth, take two...**

 **DISCLAIMER: i don't own any part of My Hero Academia- the plot and characters all belong to Horikoshi Kohei**

* * *

 _My mind had opened like a floodgate, the waves of memories long repressed washing into the forefront of my mind. I had always much preferred the safety of dry land, a vast array of minerals that I could easily, enjoyably understand; I had never done very well with water. The expansive sea of my subconscious, wild and tumultuous, beat me down until I felt as though I could not breathe. My desperate attempts to control my thoughts and memories, ones that I felt deep within me I had hidden from myself for good reason, I was powerless to stop memories long since past from fleeing the prison in which I'd kept them; the dam I had built was broken, just like me._

 _A foggy image of my father filled my mind. Though his image was cloudy, I could tell that he looked younger than as I knew him now, though he was wearing the same dark outfit and grey scarf with which I was all too familiar. The expression he wore was not one I had seen him wear often: a mixture of loss, despair, hopelessness, disappointment. Bright red flames materialized around him in my mind's eye as the memory manifested for me in greater clarity. It was a place I did not recognize, though admittedly there was not much left for me to look at. The parts of the house in which my father stood that were not ablaze were rotten- I could almost smell the stench, a mixture of mildew and gasoline._

" _Oh, Shouta~"_

 _The voice of a woman rang through my mind, bouncing around within the confines of my skull, and I winced. Were memories meant to be this painful? Perhaps this was the price I was to pay for my naive desire for a normal adolescence; a childhood free of being haunted by this memory which I was now being forced to relive. The eerie echo of the woman's voice continued, and I watched (or 'remembered'? I could no longer tell the difference…) as my father glanced around swiftly, frantically seeking out the source of the voice._

 _A sudden pressure drew me out of my panicked inaction- wait, a pressure? I froze, suddenly realizing that the memory had become even more vivid. Was this a dream? I glanced downward; ten small toes met my gaze, wriggling nervously, the tips scraping against the black ash that decorated the living room carpet. A living room, that was where I was… I peeked to my right, noticing that my hand was placed within my father's; his was much larger than mine._

 _When was this?_

" _Shouta- come out, come out, wherever you are!"_

 _The grip of my father's hand on mine grew tighter, still, and I worked hard to keep the small 'eep!' of surprise and pain trapped behind my lips. My father took one step back, then another. I glanced behind us, noticing that the front door was still several feet away._

 _What were we running from?_

 _Could we make it?_

 _Why were we running away, again?_

" _A-ha!"_

 _My head snapped back to face in front of me; I ignored the small snapping sounds from my hand clasped within my father's, and the shooting pains that traveled up and down my right hand and arm. My eyes, bright and blue, grew wide as they fell upon the woman in front of me. Hair the color of the room's charred walls swirled around her face, seeming to almost dance in sync with the flames, just barely grazing the woman's pale shoulders. Her eyes were dark, hollow, wrathful. She was like nothing I had ever seen before._

 _Was I in Hell?_

" _Look what you've made me do, Shouta…"_

 _The woman seemed to almost be scolding my father as she gestured blandly at the destroyed house in which we stood. A wide sneer cracking her pale face; she looked like she had not eaten a bite of food in her whole life. My eyes traveled down the length of one bony arm, until they came to rest on yet another person. The muddled grey-purplish color of his hair matched the bruises that decorated his left arm, which the woman held tightly. I could see creases in the skin near her hand, which twisted in a painful-looking way each time she or the child moved. If he felt any pain at all, it was overshadowed by the fear in his eyes._

" _Give her to me, Shouta," the woman commanded, reaching out to me with her free hand. The bruises on the grey haired boy's arm did not seem at all welcoming; I felt fear rise up and stick in my throat. Or was it bile? It was difficult to say._

" _Stay away from us, Izanami." my father replied, to which the woman gave a barking laugh in retort. It did not sound like a laugh; the skin on the boy's arm pulled as her body shook with laughter, and he winced. "I won't fight you here."_

" _Can't fight, is what you mean." Izanami retorted. She released the boy's arm roughly, pushing him away from her as she stepped towards us. I heard a smack as his head banged against the doorframe, and he fell limply to the ground. I let out a choking sound, trying to call out to him, but I was unable to even get a word out._

 _Who was that?_

 _What was his name again?_

" _What can you do, Shouta? You're so small and so weak! I'd squash you like a bug."_

 _Izanami continued as she stepped towards us. Someone I did not recognize emerged briefly from the shadows behind the woman, his hands wrapping greedily around the boy's limp body. I tugged at my father's arm with my hand clutched within his; he had not noticed that the boy had been taken._

" _Give her to me."_

" _I can't do that, Izanami." my father repeated. "Don't take another step closer-"_

" _You've already failed to keep one of them safe- can't you just give up already?" she hissed. My skin crawled as her long fingers reached for me hungrily._

" _Papa!" I screeched. Finally, I seemed to have regained my ability to talk._

" _I warned you, Izanami!"_

 _In an instant the dark apparition had vanished, and I knew somehow that my father had used his Quirk. In her place was a woman more serene and beautiful than I could have imagined. Her eyes- blue, just like mine- gazed up at my father and I innocently from where she had crumpled onto the floor. Her hair was a creamy blonde, like the cream top of the yogurt I had eaten every morning for breakfast; it was the same length as the woman who had destroyed our home. The glistening of her eyes, the overall radiance of her appearance, I wondered briefly how it was that she could not be an angel. She was like nothing I had ever seen before._

 _Was I in Heaven?_

" _Shouta…" she whispered, her voice shaky. She glanced around, seeming startled by the disarray that surrounded us. "Shouta, what's happened?"_

" _Izanami…" My father's voice was shaking, just like hers. "Izanami, I'm so sorry…"_

" _Shouta! You're crushing Daichi's fingers!" Izanami cried out. She attempted to get up to help me, but failed, landing back on the floor exactly where she had started almost immediately._

" _Shouta, please tell me what's going on! Where's Tomu-?"_

"Can you remember now, my child?"

Reality came crashing back to me, pulling me out of the memories in which I'd previously been drowning. I felt an iron grip on my skull, two hands, one on either side of my head. For a moment I was confused; I had heard this voice before, in my nightmares, and now in my memories.

"What do you have to say, now that you know the truth?"

' _You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth generation of those who hate me.'_

That is what God declares in the book of Exodus. Knowing what I knew now, I could not help but wonder what God would have said about the sins of the mother. Did those, too, return to the children?

* * *

 **Heaven and Earth**

 **PART I: Starting Line**

" _Nowadays, the 'extraordinary' is that 'ordinary' when something 'ordinary' can sublimate into another 'extraordinary'."_

* * *

U.A. high school: the number one high school for heroics, and the top hero academy in the world. Every year, hundreds of aspiring heroes take the entrance exam; only one in every three hundred will make it through. Such a prestigious academy breeds only the best of the best- the cream of the crop, if you will. The goal of such an academy is to turn out the best and brightest next generation of "Pro Heroes". And today, a brisk and sunny spring day, was the start of a new semester: a brand new class of first years who may one day become the future of the hero profession.

That is the speech that my father had given me countless times before. For a man who almost never smiled, I had always found it to be surprisingly full of optimism. Optimistic, however, was quite the opposite of how I felt on this particular day. In my hands I held two bowls of rice, freshly made, steam rising from the fluffy scoops of grain; my fingertips burned slightly from holding them.

"Papa…"

I pursed my lips in frustration as I stared into my father's empty room. The curtains were drawn, making it difficult to see, but I could already tell that he was long gone. I took a deep breath, trying hard to keep my cool as I felt the china bowls in my hands shake. A small noise met my ears, and I glanced downward; a tiny fissure had appeared on the side of each bowl, a hairline fracture cutting through the white and blue design. I sighed heavily.

"Not again…"

I walked back downstairs to the kitchen, dumping both bowls gingerly into the sink, ignoring the mess as the still steaming rice spilled out into the bottom of the sink. Glancing at the clock, I ran my fingers through my short creamy hair, sighing yet again- I was going to be late. Grabbing my school bag, I made sure that it held my uniform as I made my way out of the front door of the house, carefully locking it behind me. Some people would likely find it silly to bother locking one's door if your house happened to reside on the campus of UA High School; I was one of them, but despite my best efforts I just couldn't shake the habit.

Breath escaped from my mouth in small, sustained puffs as I jogged towards UA's main school building, hoping to get to class with enough time to change into my school clothes. Campus was surprisingly mellow for the first day of school, though to be fair I had never experienced a first day of school before. For reasons that had yet to become apparent, my father had until now insisted that I be home schooled; Mr. Principal said that he was just overprotective.

A small sign that read _1A_ at last caught my eye, and I paused briefly in the middle of the hallway. Nervousness began to rise within me; it felt like a mixture of needing to throw up, and being tickled too much. What was I supposed to say? How was I supposed to act? What did kids my age even talk about? I hadn't the slightest inkling what the answer to any of these questions were. Ignoring the confused stares of other students who I did not know as they passed me in the hallway, I glowered at the tile floor in annoyance.

"Go to UA for high school, he said… It'll be fun, he said…" I whispered to myself.

"Uh…" I jumped, realizing too late that there was, indeed, someone else waiting outside of the door with me. "Sorry, were you talking to me?"

The boy in front of me looked puzzled, but in the most polite way possible. His green hair framed his face like a Christmas wreath, and I felt my nervousness and embarrassment wither away as our eyes met; he was about a foot shorter than I was, and his puppy dog eyes made it almost impossible to feel nervous.

"Ah… sorry, no…" I mumbled. Alright, so maybe not _all_ of my embarrassment was gone. "Just psyching myself out, or giving myself a pep-talk… both, maybe, I don't know… sorry, I'm rambling."

"It's fine!" he replied swiftly. "Nervous. Trust me, I get it."

His smile was big despite his own nervousness, so I tried to smile back. From within the hood of my sweatshirt, I attempted a smile. I wasn't sure if the way I smiled was the right way to smile- a _nice way to smile_ \- and my cheeks spasmed if I held the smile for too long. The boy made a small noise that maybe was a laugh; my smile probably looked weird.

"I'm Midoriya Izuku," he said, breaking the awkward pause. "Are you here for class? You aren't wearing a uniform…"

"Yeah," I replied, nodding simultaneously. "Daichi." I said, pointing to myself as if he needed further clarification. His smile was still in place.

"Cool, gotcha, nice to meet you! Maybe it'll be better if we go in together?" he said brightly. His smile faltered slightly, his lips quivering nervously. I tried smiling again; it felt more natural this time.

"Sure," I replied softly as I reached for the door. "Y'know, I've never been to an actual school before, so…" I trailed off, losing my train of thought as muffled yells met my ears through the door.

"It'll be fine!" Izuku assured me. "I'm a little nervous too, but it'll be fine, just so long as-"

"Don't put your legs on the table!"

I had slid open the door, the loud voices within the classroom cutting Izuku off mid-sentence. His face blanched, and I felt that same ticklish feeling of nervousness churn in my stomach yet again. A dark haired boy stood beside a desk near the door, his dark eyes glowering sternly as he addressed a blonde boy who was sitting at said desk. The dark haired boy stood with a rigidity like nothing I had ever seen before. The blonde, on the other hand, sat with his feet draped carelessly across his desktop, hands behind his head lazily. The two could not have been more opposite.

"Don't you think that's disrespectful towards your classmates?"

"No! As a matter of fact, I don't think so!" the blonde replied. A demonic expression marred his features, and by my side Izuku gulped audibly. "What middle school did you go to, you two-bit extra?" I frowned- what did that even _mean?_

"A private sch-" The dark haired boy paused mid answer, cleared his throat, and started again. "I went to Soumei Junior High. The name's Iida Tenya!" Despite myself, I rolled my eyes; at least he didn't _want_ to sound pompous.

"Ooo, _Soumei~_ " The blonde's expression was no longer angry, though it was just as annoying, and somehow more sickening than his previous expression. A gloating sneer cut across his face, and I felt the tension in the room increase. Was this what a first day of school was always like? "Well aren't you an _elite!_ Seems like I've got a reason to end you after all!"

"Hey."

I spoke reflexively, my regret immediately compiling onto the nervousness quietly churning in the pit of my stomach. I felt hot prickles all over my body, though I kept my face passive as the blonde and the boy named Iida Tenya turned to look at me. I clenched my fists in the pockets of my sweatshirt, silently thanking myself for not having changed into my uniform beforehand. With my face hidden deep in the confines of my sweatshirt hood, I met the gaze of the bickering boys in front of me.

"It's early, and it's the first day," I began again. "Can you please try and keep it down... what is it you said… you 'two-bit extra'?"

A loud scrape met my ears as the blonde pushed his seat back, standing up in one swift motion. Izuku squirmed uncomfortably next to me, but didn't move. The blonde's features were once again clouded with anger, though now that I looked at the expression more carefully it was more outrageous than frightening; I briefly wondered if it hurt his face to scowl so deeply.

"Oy, Deku, who's this freak?" the boy growled. I arched an eyebrow.

"Who's Deku?" I asked, looking to my right- at Izuku- for answers. The green haired boy by my side gestured to himself, and I frowned. "Why?"

"Cause he's a Quirkless loser who can't do anything!" the boy spat. Next to him I saw Tenya take a few steps back, probably both to avoid his wrath as well as his spit.

"You're kind of a jerk, huh?" I replied calmly, though inside my sweatshirt my body told a different story. I was sweating like crazy, I itched everywhere- how did people interact with others so easily? All it seemed to bring me was discomfort. "Either you're very talented, or you're compensating for something." The blonde boy prickled aggressively, and I heard several pops emit from his palms, indicating his Quirk was manifesting. "Or both." I added, taunting him.

"Say that one more time, man- I friggin' dare ya!" Noting the small sparks and pops coming from his hands, I chuckled softly.

"Sparklers?" I retorted, gesturing towards his outstretched arms. "Cute." The boy flinched as a few giggles from the rest of the class broke out over the tense atmosphere. His eyes fixated on me, a low snarl escaped his lips as he took several steps forward, closing the distance between us.

"Why you-"

"Well, well, well,"

Within my sweatshirt my body tensed as a new voice broke through the tenseness. I turned to my right, towards the door, glancing over Izuku's head as I searched for the voice's owner; I knew that voice.

"Doesn't really seem like you all are playing nice." the voice continued calmly. "This is the department of heroics. Act like it."

My lips pressed into a firm line as I realized it was coming from a puffy orange sleeping bag, which was laying on the floor just beyond the door frame. Dry red eyes stared at Izuku and I from the floor, dark hair spilling out of the sleeping bag and onto the floor of the hall. An empty pouch of applesauce- his breakfast- lay on the floor beside of him, and my thoughts briefly turned bitter as I remembered the forgotten rice back at home. If anyone here should have been acting more like _the department of heroics_ , it was probably this guy.

"Hmm…" he drawled, stepping out of the sleeping bag and into the classroom. "It took you all about eight seconds to quiet down. Life is short, you're all lacking common sense. I am Aizawa Shouta, your homeroom teacher." The class seemed to blink in unison, awestruck by our new teacher's fantastical entrance. I scoffed without thinking, drawing his attention to me. "Daichi." he said blandly, his red eyes coming to rest on me; I blanched. "Was it you causing all the commotion? I should've guessed…"

"Me?" I blurted back, a sound that expressed the offense I felt escaping my throat. It was the sort of noise a spoiled teen would use when being told off by a parent. "It was these two idiots-"

The aforementioned 'two idiots' were now standing quietly in the crowd of students, as though they had been minding their business the whole time. I felt my body deflate in a mixture of frustration, guilt, and embarrassment; some first day this was turning into.

"Where is your uniform?" My attention snapped back to Aizawa Shouta, whose deadpan gaze was directed solely at myself. My lips twitched, half out of nervousness, half from annoyance.

"What the hell is this?" he continued, gesturing to my outfit; it was a simple ensemble, black sweatpants and a black sweatshirt. They swallowed my slender frame in their depths, as they were meant for someone who was both slightly taller, older, and more masculine: my father.

"I ran outta time-" I began sheepishly. I could feel my brave facade beginning to wear off; clearly, my false bravado had a limit.

"Go and change." Aizawa Shouta commanded. "Now."

As he spoke, he thrust a blue and white outfit in my direction. My body subtly jolted as he shoved the getup against my chest, my hands coming up to hold the clothes to stop them from falling to the floor; I could feel my cheeks prickle with anxiousness, and no doubt my face was now a rosy pink.

"That goes for all of you, actually." he continued, staring out into the gaggle of first year students, who were clearly all still bemused by his entrance and appearance. "Put these on immediately, and then shove off to the P.E. grounds!"

The class dispersed swiftly, Aizawa Shouta sauntering off on his own, no doubt heading to the P.E. grounds on his own while we changed. I scowled, considering briefly the list of insults I could mutter under my breath as he made his exit; many of them were not very good, and absolutely none of them made me feel any better at all.

Left alone in the classroom, I scowled slightly at the fabric clutched in my fingers. For some reason, I had expected my first day of "real school" to be much different; but, perhaps that had been my own conceited assumption. I had hoped to make a nice impression, get along easily with others- the truth of it all was that I did not know who I was when it came to other people. Who was Daichi, and what kind of person was she to other people? I did not yet know the answer. Another heavy sigh escaped my lips, making it five gigantic sighs of resignation before ten in the morning.

"I guess I'd better change…"

* * *

The sun was shining brightly as I stepped out of UA's main building and onto the dirt that covered the P.E. training grounds. It had warmed slightly since the time I'd made my trek to class, and I felt my body relax at my shoes crunched across the sun-warmed sand. A small smile tugged at my lips; I felt much better now that I was dressed appropriately in my training uniform, my creamy orange hair spiked ever so slightly into a fohawk. At least now I could pretend to have my life somewhat together.

" _Oy!_ "

The sudden exclamation caused me to freeze in my tracks, glancing up from the sparkling grains of sand, my gaze coming to rest on the group of students several feet in front of me. Our homeroom teacher stood in front of them, although the gaze of each student now fell on me. Aizawa Shouta looked displeased; Izuku looked mildly worried, as did the brown haired girl by his side; the blonde boy from this morning wore an expression that was a mixture of shock and displeasure.

"How nice of you to finally join us, Daichi," Aizawa Shouta drawled. Regaining control of my feet, I took a few steps closer to the class, a low hiss escaping through the blonde's clenched teeth as I approached.

"What the hell!" he yelled, clearly outraged over something I was not yet privy to. "You're a friggin' _girl?_ " The boy sounded offended; I crossed my arms across my chest, the culprit of my gender identification, finally stopping next to Izuku, Tenya, and the brown haired girl. "You sure talk big for a chick!"

"Is my gender supposed to affect my manner of speaking?" I replied curtly, ignoring our teacher as his expression turned increasingly more sour. "You were making a lot of noise. And being rude. I didn't like it," At this the boy scoffed, clearly unwilling to let my transgressions toward him slide now that he knew I was female.

"I don't give a shit what gender you are, if you ever talk to me that way again I'll-"

"Hey!"

Aizawa Shouta's barking voice cut through our quarreling. Izuku jumped slightly, though I kept my eyes fixed on the blonde, arching a single eyebrow incredulously. I will admit, I was more on the offensive than usual when it came to this boy; I wasn't sure what it was about him, but part of me was curious to see how much it would take to make him snap. Judging by his expression, I could guess that it didn't take very much.

"Bakugo Katsuki, quiet down." The blonde, Bakugo Katsuki, let out a soft _harrumph!_ , though he obeyed and turned away from me. "Today we will be doing a Quirk Apprehension test." he stated firmly.

Nervous chatter erupted from the group of first years surrounding me, and I glanced around incredulously. Why were they so shocked? It seemed fitting enough that our homeroom teacher would want to get a grasp on what level we were all at with our Quirks…

"But what about the entrance ceremony?" the girl next to Izuku piped up. She was very cute, her large brown eyes staring up at our homeroom teacher expectantly from beneath her soft brown bangs. A bubbly personality like hers was one I had desired for my "first day debut", but seemed to lack the charm and feminine finesse to master. "Or, what about the guidance counselor meetings?" I frowned, confused. Were those typical activities for a first day of school?

"If you all truly want to be heroes, Uraraka, we don't have the time for frilly niceties." The girl, Uraraka (her full name still remained a mystery to me), looked befuddled, but did not protest. "You all know, I'm sure, of our school's reputation for freedom on campus… Well, that freedom extends to us teachers, as well." The class was silent; I wasn't sure they understood what he was going on about. To be honest, I wasn't too sure, either.

"Softball pitch. Standing long jump. Fifty meter dash. Endurance running. Grip strength test. Sustained sideways jumps. Seated toe-touch... These are all activities you know from middle school, naturally."

The other students hung on every word, waiting apprehensively for him to get to the real point. I felt myself pouting despite my best efforts, vaguely wondering what it was like to participate in a group fitness test. Although I had not gotten the traditional middle school education for others my age, my father had still forced each of these tests onto me during those years. I had many not-so-fond memories of embarrassing myself on the U.A. campus in front of second and third year students on these very PE grounds: a little nine-year-old girl desperately trying to control her quirk in front of older, cooler, more experienced future-heroes. I caught myself frowning deeply at the memories.

"Physical tests where you were barred from using your Quirks. The country still hasn't gotten around to standardizing those sorts of records, or keeping track of average performance levels. Well... That's negligence on the part of MEXT. ***** "

The class remained silent as our teacher finished his speech, his expression unchanging for its entirety. Aizawa Shouta had never been known for his enthusiasm, or his personability. I glanced around sheepishly, unsure of whether one of us should speak. Were we supposed to volunteer, now? Nothing was very clear.

"So we're taking a standard middle school physical fitness test?" Tenya asked from the crowd of onlooking students. "Except this time, we're allowed to use our quirks…"

"That's the idea." he answered calmly. I pursed my lips anxiously. "Daichi… Since you had the audacity to be the last to show up, tell me, how far could you pitch a softball in middle school?"

"I didn't go to middle school." I mumbled, slightly annoyed at him for having singled me out. I was a slow walker, not a truant. I hardly deserved this. "You know that I was homeschooled, Aizawa-sensei." I could feel the confusion emanating from the other students around me, but I forced myself to keep my eyes locked on the teacher, black meeting blue.

"You know what I meant." he replied sternly. I let out a puff of air tiredly.

"About seventy meters." I answered, finally giving him the answer he was looking for.

He gestured to me, motioning for me to come up to the front. Abandoning the safety of my classmates, where I had been nestled nicely within the group, I walked around the outskirts of the gaggle of students until I was standing on the teacher's other side. I know stood within a spray painted ring, indicating a pitching mound; Aizawa Shouta tossed a ball to me, which I caught easily in my palm. I met his eyes again.

"Try using your Quirk with these tests." he explained. The rest of the class watched me, while I watched the teacher. "You know the drill. As long as you don't exit that circle, anything you do is fine."

I frowned; I couldn't throw the ball in his face out of frustration, so clearly not _anything_ I did was fine. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Bakugo Katsuki, who was sneering at me crudely from the crowd of students. He was quickly becoming my least favorite person I had ever had the misfortune of meeting, and I was sure he was getting a kick out of my public embarrassment.

Slowly, nervously, I stretched out my arm, ball in hand. Abruptly and with little flourish, I promptly flipped my palm over and dropped the ball into the sand on which I stood. Katsuki let out a whooping laugh from where he stood with the other students. Izuku and Uraraka looked rather shocked; Tenya pushed his glasses disapprovingly up the bridge of his nose.

"You've gotta be kidding!" he cried; immediately, Shouta shushed him.

"Shut up!"

Aizawa Shouta's voice was loud and overbearing, he class returning to its previous awkward silence immediately. The teacher whipped out a calculating device with which I was all too familiar, holding it steadily in front of him and keeping his eyes carefully trained on me all the while. The class looked on, eyes wide. Some anxiously awaited their turn in the spotlight, while others fretted over their inevitable performances; I was sure I could guess which ones were the former, and which were the latter.

"I said you could use your Quirks. Some of you won't _need_ your hands."

Inside the circle, I allowed my eyes to slide shut, focussing on the sand beneath my feet. I could feel the warmth of it radiating in my mind, as if the minerals in the sand and I were connected on a psychic level. It was mostly quartz, just as it always had been, with trace amounts of various feldspars with which I was less familiar *****. I took a deep, slow breath, flexing my fingers as my mind focussed on the granules that surrounded the softball on the ground.

Slowly, the ball began to rise, and I could hear with perfect clarity the sounds of the grains of sand scraping against one another as they danced beneath the softball. It was a sound that others could not hear, but to me it was one of the more soothing noises in existence. The class watched as the white softball floated to my shoulder on a fluffy bed of sand; I felt my body shudder from the tenseness I felt from being watched so carefully.

Before long, the ball was surrounded by swirling sand grains. I squeezed my eyes shut in concentration, red and orange splotches dancing against the backs of my eyelids as I focussed more of my mental energy on moving the sand; this specific sort of task that required small, tedious manipulations was something I found to be the most difficult. Before long the sand was swirling swiftly, orbiting the ball at breakneck pace before swallowing it in an impenetrable wall of sand as I shaped it into what resembled a tiny sand tornado.

And then, in a heartbeat, I released the tension in my mind keeping the granules in check, allowing my mind to relax ever so slightly; it was a similar sensation to when you unbutton your pants after eating too much. In an instant, I reversed the direction in which the sand was spinning. The airflow switched, and the softball was spat unceremoniously from the depths of the tiny cyclone I'd built. With a loud but dull _thup!_ the ball exploded from the front end of the miniscule sandstorm, flying through the air at a speed almost to swift for the naked eye to follow.

The angle at which I had tilted the sand funnel sent the ball soaring high into the air in an arch. The ball disappeared briefly into the clouds, landing a moment later clear on the other end of the field. Aizawa Shouta flipped the device in his hand around to face me, and I glanced at it with an expression I hoped conveyed a vague disinterest, although deep down my stomach fluttered with an anxious hope that I had perhaps done something impressive.

"Seven hundred and twelve meters," Aizawa Shouta stated blandly, turning around to face the rest of the class.

With his back turned, and the class focussed on the measuring device in his hand, I allowed a smile to tug on my lips, a proud blush decorating my cheeks briefly. I'd like to see Bakugo Katsuki beat that record.

"Before anything else, you all need to know what you're capable of. The results of these tests will be a rational metric off of which you can form your Hero Foundation." he explained.

I shuffled out of the circle, regaining my composure and rearranging my features back into an expression that was free of any trace of excitement, stopping by Aizawa Shouta's side while he continued to address the class. Somehow, I could not help but feel embarrassed in front of my new classmates. Bakugo Katsuki was quietly seething from his place on the left side of the group, but Midoriya Izuku shot an enthusiastic thumbs up in my direction. Despite myself, I smiled, and for the first time that day I felt like maybe my smile was real.

"Even though Daichi doesn't have a Quirk that necessarily lends itself to help her throw a ball far distances, she was still able to use to beat her last record."

"What was her last record?" Uraraka peeped from the crowd of students.

I opened my mouth to reply, but was quickly interrupted; Bakugo Katsuki had shaken himself away from the other students, and was now marching straight towards me. I could almost see steam spilling from his ears.

"Pfft- an Elemental Quirk, huh?" he scoffed, bumping into my shoulder intentionally as he brushed past me roughly. I went limp, simply letting my body return lazily to its former position, though I felt my smile falter, my blue eyes following Katsuki's path to the pitcher's circle.

"Earth… Big deal! An earth element Quirk is just a glorified version of playing in the sandbox!" he jeered.

My smile vanished, replaced by a squirmy frown that showed my internal combination of frustration and self-consciousness for the insult to my precious Quirk. Aizawa Shouta met my gaze briefly, shaking his head, as if to tell me to pay him no mind; he tossed another softball in Katsuki's direction. He caught it, a wide sneer cracking across his face; my eyes met his, and his expression conveyed to me just how far above everyone else he placed himself. I wondered vaguely if it was possible for Katsuki to ever not sound angry… I very much doubted it.

"You were probably one of those friggin' weird kids who ate worms, huh?"

My hands balled into fists despite my desire to keep my composure, and several small popping sounds met my ears as my knuckles cracked. Aizawa Shouta reoriented his measuring device and he nodded, giving Katsuki the go-ahead. From his place in the circle, Katsuki wound up, ball in hand, an enraged expression contorting his features. Within the comfort of my own mind, I made a mental bet with myself: if everyone in class 1-A wasn't completely outraged with Bakugo Katsuki by the time we became second years, I'd drink a gallon of sand.

"You play with friggin' dirt," Katsuki seethed.

A faint smoky scent met my nostrils, and I crinkled my nose in response. Before I could even register what was going on Katsuki had thrown the ball with all of his might, a loud _pop!_ cutting through the tense atmosphere surrounding the rest of the class.

"But I play with fire!"

* * *

 ***Izanami:** **In Japanese mythology, Izanami-no-Mikoto (Japanese:** **伊弉冉尊** **or** **伊邪那美命** **,meaning "she who invites") is a goddess of both creation and death, as well as the former wife of the god Izanagi-no-Mikoto. She is also referred to as Izanami-no-kami**.

 ***MEXT: Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology.**

 ***typically sand is made up of mostly quartz; feldspars are just a mineral group, and different kinds of feldspars can also be found in sand.**

 **this story is slightly AU because Daichi has taken Momo's place in class 1A! Please review and let me know what you think!**


	2. Sedimentary

**ATTENTION: for those of you who have been reading/following/keeping up with this story in any capacity- it has undergone a rewrite as of MONDAY JUNE 12TH. several things have been switched: the chapters are longer, it is now written in first person. after giving it some thought, I decided that I wanted to try first person, as well as flesh out Daichi's character in a slightly different direction. please let me know what you think! anyways, Heaven and Earth, take two...**

* * *

" _We are the Almighty heroes, who have swooped down to save a world in disarray."_

* * *

"The kid who ranks last… gets expelled?!"

Uraraka's (whose first name Izuku had kindly informed me was _Ochaco_ ) voice rang out across the P.E. training grounds, her face mirroring the shocked expressions of the rest of our classmates. After Bakugo Katsuki's violent outburst of competition, he had been ordered to return to where the rest of the class stood- Aizawa-sensei had had a game plan, and had not been at all pleased about having to deal with an unwarranted, fiery interruption.

Having finally gotten everyone settled down, including even Katsuki the fire-spinner, we had been given a speech, which ended in a heavy threat: after completing the physical fitness tests using our Quirks, the student with the lowest score would be immediately expelled from UA High School.

I glanced around aimlessly, feeling fairly nonplussed about the whole ordeal. Aizawa Shouta was well known for being a difficult sort of person, and he had a reputation for failing his students out of UA on the very first day. However, his withholding attitude only served to make me pity the other students, as well as feel a mild embarrassment.

"This is only our first day here!" Ochaco continued desperately. "And even if it wasn't… That just seems too unreasonable!"

Despite my deep and tired sigh, I had to admit that I agreed with her. However, I knew too well that her reasonable pleas fell on deaf ears… Eraserhead was not so easily swayed. Aizawa Shouta released a heavy sigh- it sounded remarkably like my own- running his fingers through his long dark waves before he chose to reply to Ochaco, who had been watching him carefully all the while.

"That's right, it is unreasonable…" he began, looking directly at Ochaco while addressing all of us. "Natural disasters... Massive accidents... Ego-mad villains... All kinds of calamities can happen when we least expect them. Japan's now positively drenched in _unreasonable_."

Despite myself, I felt a soft smile creep across my lips; even if Aizawa Shouta was an infamous curmudgeon, it was times like these where one could clearly see that, despite his surly demeanor, he truly did care.

"And it's our job as heroes to reverse it all, and restore reason." he said sternly. The class remained silent, watching our teacher with baited breath. "If you were counting on a friendly chat at the local McDonald's after school, that's too bad. From now on, for the next three years, all you can expect from your life at UA is one hardship after the next."

"This is _Plus Ultra_. I expect for you to overcome these trials, and climb to the top!"

The students around me shifted; some had been overcome with an almost tangible nervousness, others were riding a second wind following the initial shock of Aizawa Shouta's words. Bakugo Katsuki stretched his arms and shoulders languidly, a triumphant smirk breaking out across his face. I felt mildly overwhelmed, though I worked hard to not let my face show it; the ways in which each student was preparing to face and tackle the UA first-year 'baptism' was surprisingly moving. I could feel determination saturating the atmosphere around me. These kids were ready to be heroes. So was I.

"Now then!" Aizawa Shouta began again. "That was the demonstration… I'd only intended for it to be one student…" he muttered, shooting a dry-eyed glare in Katsuki's direction; I let out a soft, airy chuckle through my nostrils. "It's time to step up to the plate!"

"Trial one: the fifty meter dash!"

"You ok?"

To my right crouched Midoriya Izuku, a nervous expression clouding his features. The rest of the students had begun lining themselves up at the starting mark for the fifty meter dash. Some wore confident expressions- you could tell that these kids were the ones with Quirks that worked well for sprints. Others, the ones like me, looked less than enthusiastic about the first trial.

"Mmhmm…" Izuku mumbled sheepishly. "I just… I can't control my Quirk very well, yet…" I arched a single eyebrow, incredulous.

"Really?" I replied. A few students looked my way, as my voice rose several octaves. Having never before interacted in large groups, I could already tell that subtlety was not my strong point, socially. "Quirks usually manifest by the time we're four… What happened?"

Before Izuku could answer my question, none other than Bakugo Katsuki appeared to my left. I frowned, not working to hide my displeasure. His reply was simply to smirk, stretching his thighs by squatting down repetitively; my frown deepened. To Katsuki's left was another boy, one I had not noticed until that moment.

His hair was two-toned: half white, half red. Each color was shocking to my eyes in its own particular way. The boy's eyes- mismatched- slid to their corners, meeting my own gaze point blank. My eyes widened as I realized that I had been staring blatantly in his direction for at least an entire minute.

"Um… Daichi-san?" Izuku cooed from my side, his voice jolting me out of my embarrassed trance. I tore my eyes away from the boy next to Katsuki. "Are you alright? Your face is totally red…"

"What?" I squeaked. The squeak only served to embarrass me further, and I heard Katsuki scoff derisively. I cleared my throat. "I mean… What?"

"Are you sure you don't have a fever?"

"N-no," I replied. I tried to keep my tone level, but it did not work very well. "I'm really fine."

"If you say so…"

Although I was grateful for Izuku's concern, I chose to turn my attention to the subject at hand: the fifty meter dash. I frowned slightly, lost in thought; my Quirk, just as with the softball pitch, did not lend itself to being helpful in this particular physical test. I bit my lip, my blue eyes glancing down to regard the dirt beneath my feet. Staring at the expanse of brown underneath me, a smile replaced my worried frown.

"Go!"

No sooner had I registered Aizawa Shouta's command, a loud grunt escaped my throat, teeth gritting against the strain of my next move. A loud crack cut through the air, dirt and rock crumbling around me as I lifted my body into the air atop a hunk of floating earth. With another grunt, caused both by the size of the rock as well as the speed of my movements, I ushered the chunk of dirt forward.

I was careening towards the finish line, air speeding past my ears in loud gusts. Bakugo Katsuki was neck and neck with me, having sent himself soaring through the air, propelled by blasts of fire from his palms. His maniacal expression was directed at Izuku, who was bringing up the rear. I frowned- a guy like that certainly didn't deserve to rub anymore salt into Izuku's metaphorical wounds.

From atop my floating dirt pile, I sent a single hand up into the air. Katsuki had no time to react as a giant rectangle of earth sprung up behind him. A muffled _oof!_ met my ears as I glided across the finish line, which was promptly followed with a very loud "FUCK!" I dismounted from my chunk of earth, feeling the heat and tenseness leave my body as I allowed the dirt and rocks to settle back into the ground beneath me. Iida Tenya stood a few feet to my left, having been the first to finish the dash. I smiled, letting out a satisfied sigh as I heard other people cross the finish line.

"Daichi."

A stern voice broke through my peaceful come-down. My eyes snapped open, my head snapping upwards. Aizawa Shouta stood over me, arms crossed, dry eyes glowering; he didn't look pleased.

"Y… Yes?" My voice was as small as I felt in that moment.

"I saw that." he said.

I made to retort, a strangled sort of 'wha-wheck' noise escaping my throat. Before I could form a word, he pointed over my shoulder. I turned my head, following the direction in which his finger was pointed. Bakugo Katsuki was crumpled on the ground, expression livid, absolutely covered in dirt. His eyes looked almost inhuman as they fixated on me, steam rising from within the depths of dirt with which he was now covered. I let out a guilty, slightly terrified chuckle.

"W-would ya look at that…" I muttered, nervousness balling in my throat like too-dry food. "How'd that get there?"

"Don't meddle in the tests, Daichi." Aizawa Shouta commanded as I turned back around to meet his gaze; in a very different way, it was just as terrifying as Bakugo Katsuki's. "In some places, that's called cheating. And by 'some places', I mean here."

"Sorry," I mumbled, giving my begrudging apology.

"Bakugo takes your score. Your new score is zero." My eyes widened.

"What?" I gasped angrily. "But-!"

"I don't friggin' want her dirt-ass score!" Katsuki snarled from his place in the dirt. I turned my head, shooting my best glare in Katsuki's direction. He just smirked.

"Do what you want." Aizawa Shouta replied, unamused and, as usual, lacking any trace of enthusiasm. "Daichi will keep her score, then. Good luck with that zero." A loud explosion from Katsuki's direction was all that he received in reply.

"That was cool!"

I glanced to my right swiftly, the sudden compliment taking me by surprise. Uraraka Ochaco stood beside me, her big brown eyes look up at me eagerly; she was around the same height as Izuku, which put her at a level that required me to tilt my head down in order to meet her eyeline. I tried to smile; Ochaco looked relatively uncomfortable, so I reverted back to my normal mask of passivity.

"Th… thank you," I mumbled. Was that right? How was one supposed to receive a compliment? "I'm Daichi, by the way."

"Uraraka Ochaco!" she replied swiftly. "You can just call me Ochaco! So, you have an Earth element Quirk? I haven't seen many Quirks like yours!"

"What d'you mean?" I asked, slightly bemused. There were elemental Quirks all around us- Katsuki, for instance. Ochaco's eyes brightened as she explained.

"Well, yours is kinda interesting, isn't it?" she began. I took it to be a rhetorical question, and so stayed silent, watching Ochaco carefully as she explained. "Bakugo-san has an elemental Quirk, sorta, but he produces the fire! Or Todoroki-san, he _produces_ the ice-"

"Who's Todoroki?" I interjected.

Ochaco smiled; she was a truly pleasant person, which I admired as well as envied. The kind of girl who might be a heroine in a shoujo manga. She pointed to our mutual left, and I turned my head to follow where her index finger was pointing. The two-toned stare of the red-and-white haired boy greeted me, and I felt a mild heat form in the pit of my stomach, which was accompanied by a flutter. I looked away almost immediately.

"Todoroki Shouto," Ochaco said, continuing to point.

Clearly, I was the only one phased by him; Ochaco seemed all but immune to any sort of shame or self-consciousness when it came to Todoroki Shouto, continuing to point blatantly in his direction. I felt his eyes boring holes in the side of my face, though I kept my gaze fixed determinedly in the other direction. Ochaco lowered her finger and looked at me.

"Are you alright?"

"Wh-I-No-Yes!" I spat out quickly. Ochaco looked confused. I also felt confused. "S-sorry… Anyways, so Todoroki Shouto uses ice and Katsuki uses fire- what's your point?"

"My point is: I find it interesting that unlike Bakugo-san and Todoroki-san, your Quirk manipulates things around you, instead of producing the element in question, like their Quirks do."

I pursed my lips thoughtfully; I'd never considered such a thing before. Before I could reply, I felt an offending object shoved into my hand. My eyes met the gaze of our teacher, who let out a small huff before moving on to the next few students. I looked down, noticing the device that I was now holding: trial two was obviously the grip-strength test. I frowned, considering my next challenge briefly.

A moment later, I let the familiar stressful heat that accompanied the use of my Quirk fill me up, and I watched as a multitude of pebbles covered my hand and fingers. My free hand flexed, and I felt the rocks expand away from my hand; next, I balled my fist, and the rocks crushed into my hand that held the device. The pressure of the rocks worked exactly how I had wanted, increasing the strength of my grip. I glanced at the device's screen, which showed me my results: 160 KGW.

"Whadja get, dirt-face?"

I glowered, Bakugo Katsuki's scathing voice breaking through my peaceful state of mind. I put the device down, allowing the screen to go blank before he could get a good look at it. This seemed to piss him off, since his response to the blank screen was to kick the device and drop his own; I heard a few crackles emit from his palms.

"Beeswax Not Yours, Incorporated." I replied monotonously. By my side Ochaco let out a giggle; it sounded more like a hiss.

"Daichi-chan, that was really lame!" she exclaimed, her shoulders bobbing up and down with laughter.

I frowned; I'd heard it said in a television show once, and had thought maybe it would be a cool comeback. Looking at Katsuki's expression, my ears filled with the sound of Ochaco's giggles, I could tell that I had been sorely mistaken.

"You homeschooled kids really are freaks," Katsuki muttered before taking off in the opposite direction.

From across the group of students who were still admiring each other's grip-strength scores, the gaze of Todoroki Shouto once again offended my senses. Yet again, I blushed. Was I defective, or just an idiot?

"Trial three is the standing long jump!"

Aizawa Shouta's voice cut off the few small conversations that were still going on. The class lined themselves up one by one, preparing to jump across the heap of sand that was typical of a long jump test. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I glanced over my shoulder cautiously.

"Ack!"

A strangled cry escaped my throat, realizing suddenly that Todoroki Shouto was standing right behind me. He was expressionless, just as he had been for most of the day. His heterochromatic eyes stared straight at me, unabashed at having been discovered. Clearly, other people were way less shameless about starring than even myself, which I found somewhat comforting even in the midst of the present situation. Izuku, who was in front of me, turned around; he looked confused.

"Daichi-san?"

"I'm fine!" I said immediately, very loudly. The kid in front of him- a blonde with a weirdly sharp face- glanced behind him curiously. "Totally fine!"

"Your face is super red."

"No it's not!"

"Y-yes it-"

"You're imagining things, Izuku!"

"Please don't be so loud…"

The voice of Todoroki Shouto made its way into my ears, moving languidly through my brain and quieting me instantly. I felt a shiver run up my spine, and I wondered briefly if the shiver was a personal matter, or had more to do with his icey powers and demeanor. The boy in front of Izuku turned around and blasted what looked like a laser out of his naval, propelling him across the sand; Izuku, on the other hand, barely made it a few feet before falling into the sand. I frowned; did he even have a Quirk? I could not imagine that what Katsuki had claimed this morning- that Izuku was a 'Quirkless loser'- was true, since he had made it into the hero course. But was it?

Pushing my questions out of my mind, I concentrated on the grains of sand below me. One step at a time, I lifted my cupped hands through the air; each time, a puff of sand rose up to meet my feet, allowing me to bounce through the air and across the sandbox that represented the no-man's-land between the start line of the standing long jump, and the end. I let my feet touch the ground only I saw Aizawa Shouta.

"Do you know what's going on with Izuku's Quirk?" I asked, keeping my voice low. Silently I praised myself on learning how to be subtle. "He doesn't seem to be doing well in any of the tests… I'm kinda worried for him…"

I watched as Todoroki Shouto landed easily on my side of the sand, having glided across using his ice. His eyes were fixed on my; I couldn't tell if it was anger, curiosity or indifference that I saw there.

"Should you be talking with me so casually around your new classmates?" Aizawa Shouta replied stiffly. "Last night you explicitly instructed me to be discreet." I made a scoffing sound, though my expression showed that I was pouting.

"Fine, never mind, then." I replied with equal stiffness.

I walked away from the teacher, resisting the urge to turn around and see if he was watching me. An extremely tired-looking Izuku greeted me from his place at the end of the long jump course. Sand poured from the folds in his exercise uniform, its bright blue fabric dotted with light specks of minerals.

"It looks as though you're suffering from severe dandruff." I stated matter of factly, my blue eyes serious as they regarded Izuku. Izuku stared at me blankly.

"Don't just say whatever comes into your head!" Ochaco scolded from her place beside the two of us. Izuku looked somewhat embarrassed, his eyes darting between Ochaco and the ground. I pursed my lips thoughtfully.

"Hey, Izuku, do you happen to lik-" I was silenced with a pair of hands, planted firmly over my lips, a strangled cry of panic escaping Izuku's mouth.

"Daichi-san! Please!"

Ochaco looked puzzled as her eyes darted between Izuku and myself, the former still keeping his palms planted firmly over my lips. They were rather sweaty, and it was uncomfortable, to say the least. From a few feet away I felt competitive spirit roll off of Bakugo Katsuki in waves. I was curious about who he hated more: Midoriya Izuku, or me.

Trial four was _sustained sideways long jumps_ , my very least favorite from the familiar set of physical tests from my youth. I lazily allowed puffs of sand to carry me back and forth, finishing rather mediocrely, though to be perfectly frank by that point I had lost most all of my interest in the matter. Trying my best proved difficult when I was relatively certain that I would not be expelled.

Trial five, which I had already completed, was the softball pitch. There were several outstanding pitchers: Shoji Mezo, for example, whose octopus-like appearance was only made more impressive by his outstanding brute strength. Uraraka Ochaco set the record, endowing the softball with zero gravity before sending it soaring into the depths of infinity. I watched the ball lazily as the rest of the class _ooh-_ ed and _ahhh-ed._

"Impressive~"

I drawled a lazy praise as Ochaco returned to her place between Izuku and I. The three of us had formed a weird sort of trio, with Iida Tenya cautiously drifting closer and closer as the day went on. Izuku seemed to be a focal point of interest for him; I found his engine legs to be annoying and rather offensive, aesthetically.

I then allowed my eyes to drift over to Izuku. He was looking fairly nervous, eyeing the pitcher's mound with an expression somewhere between desperation and hopelessness. I could guess what was running through his mind: most people in class _1A_ had been able to excel in one area of the test, at least, and had done fairly average or slightly above in the rest. There were, of course, a few exceptions- Hagakure Toru, for instance, who was invisible. While invisibility was an interesting Quirk, it did nothing to increase your strength or agility. We still had upper body exercises left, as well as toe touches, but somehow I doubted that either of these activities would be Izuku's strong suits, either.

"You feeling alright?" I mumbled from my place next to Izuku. Currently I was floating on a chunk of dirt, which I kept levitating with Izuku's eye line. "You don't look so good."

"I-I'm fine," he replied nervously. "Daichi-san, why are you doing that?"

"It's good practice," I said airily. I moved my hand up and down briefly, causing the heap of earth beneath me to bob. "That, and my legs are getting tired. I'm feeling lazy,"

"You're a strange one, Daichi-chan," Ochaco giggled from my other side.

"Thanks, you too!" I replied enthusiastically. This only made Ochaco giggle even more.

Looking back to my other side, I realized suddenly that Izuku was making his way out to the pitcher's mound. Iida Tenya, who was standing next to Ochaco, followed Izuku with interest.

"Midoriya hasn't been doing too well today, has he?" he mused. I shrugged.

"I don't think that he has practiced much with his Quirk," I said. Ochaco and Tenya both glanced my way quizzically. I sighed thoughtfully. "I just can't figure out why, for the life of me…"

"Of course he's doing a shitty job!" My eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Bakugo Katsuki. Absentmindedly I glanced at a small pebble on the ground, wondering vaguely if it would be worth the trouble I'd get in with the teacher to send it flying into his eyeball. "He's a Quirkless fuckin' guppy!"

"Why do you keep saying that?" I asked. My voice was cutting, but calm as I tried to reign in my annoyance with the fiery blonde far off to my side. "He's in the hero course- how the hell do you think he coulda gotten here if he doesn't have a Quirk?" Katsuki's expression faltered as our eyes met. Just beyond him Todoroki Shouto regarded me with his usual icy stare. "Are you an idiot?"

"Why you-" Before Katsuki could all-out bite my head off, Tenya interjected.

"Did you not see what he did in the entrance exam?"

"Hahh?!" Katsuki let out an enraged exclamation of disbelief. I arched an eyebrow. "What the hell're you talkin' about guy?" Tenya and I exchanged glances; this guy wasn't even bothering with learning our names.

"What did he do, Tenya?"

"Daichi-san, even you don't know?" Tenya replied, surprised. He pushed up his glasses incredulously. "I am unsurprised that Bakugo-san is in the dark, but you seem quite observant!" I shrugged casually.

"I wasn't around for the entrance exam," I muttered. My blue eyes stayed fixed on Izuku, trying to calm myself as I felt more pairs of eyes settle on me. "So I wouldn't know about anything that went on there."

"You got in through recommendations."

I glanced behind me sheepishly, my eyes falling on one of the girls I had yet to talk to; out of the corner of my eye, I saw Todoroki Shouto's expression harden, and Katsuki looked furious. The girl was froggish in appearance and stature, and even her voice was vaguely reminiscent of a ribbit. Her dark hair was shiny, contrasting starkly with the matte blue of our training uniforms. Her large, froggy eyes regarded me calmly; her words had been a statement, not a question. I let out a half-defeated huff. Things certainly did not stay secret here for long.

"What of it?" I replied, my voice muffled from behind my arms. Without realizing it, I had curled into a sort of upright ball atop my floating dirt platform, the bottom half of my face now nesting neatly within the safety of my arms, which were perched around my knees. "I wasn't the only one, I was told…"

" _You_ got in on recommendations?!" Katsuki blurted, clearly outraged. I frowned. "With your stupid sandbox Quirk? People like you should stick to laying concrete!"

"You _are_ aware that there is a teacher here who manipulates cement?" I retorted. Katsuki's only response was to glower.

A sudden tugging at my sleeve drew me out of my brief bickering. Ochaco met my gaze, gesturing towards the pitcher's mound, where I now realized the teacher and Izuku were exchanging heated words. I arched an eyebrow incredulously.

"What's going on Daichi-san?" Ochaco whispered. I understood her concern, now noticing that Aizawa Shouta had Izuku wrapped tightly within his scarf, which I knew he often used for fighting.

"Izuku can't control his Quirk too well…" I mused under my breath, mostly to myself, though I knew Ochaco was listening intently. "If anything, that'll just piss Pa- it'll piss Aizawa-sensei off, I mean." Aizawa Shouta let Izuku go, stepping back from the pitcher's mound and ushering for him to begin again. "I swear, it's almost as if he got his Quirk, like… Yesterday."

Izuku wound up again, and I felt tenseness radiating off of Aizawa Shouta more intensely than I ever had before. Everyone in class was watching carefully, a mixture of confusion and expectancy tainting the air around us. In an instant, and with a loud _whoosh!_ Izuku sent the ball flying until I could no longer see it; Ochaco's smile could have lit up a room.

"You finally got a suitable record for a hero!" Ochaco shouted excitedly.

Izuku was smiling, although from where I was floating it looked as though he were in considerable pain. Aizawa Shouta was smiling, too; that was something you didn't see every day.

"His fingers are swollen," Tenya observed from his place by Ochaco. "Reminds me of the entrance exam incident… What an odd Quirk!"

"It's not glamorous enough." said the naval laser boy from his place behind Tenya.

"Glamour seems stupid when you've got strength like that." I replied. My kind words were quickly overlooked, however, as a feral snarl suddenly erupted from Katsuki.

"What the hell is this Deku?!" he roared, and loud explosive noises met my ears as Katsuki readied his Quirk. "Explain this, now, you shitrag!"

He was charging head on in Izuku's direction- I think the term Americans use is _guns a-blazin'._ Without thinking, and quicker than usual (so much so that I almost surprised myself), I sent up a wall of earth with a flick of my wrist. The wall of light brown dirt rose between Izuku and Katsuki like a soldier in the Terracotta Army, barring Katsuki's line of fire. With a loud _oof!_ , a crunch, and long string of curses, Katsuki was suddenly laying spread eagle, coughing and spluttering on the ground. The wind had been knocked out of him from the force with which he collided with my wall, and small sparks still sputtered within his palms.

"Quick thinking, Daichi-chan," Ochaco said.

A nervous tone clouded her voice, and she waited eagerly as Izuku made his way around the earthen wall I had built. He was nursing a broken finger and looked shaken by the almost-altercation, but overall he seemed pleased with himself. I smiled, despite Katsuki's angry yells in my direction.

"That's fuckin' twice you've fucked with me today, clay-hands!" he screamed. As I watched Izuku and Ochaco, though, his words easily became nothing more than background noise. "No one humiliates me and fuckin' gets away with it!"

"Enough of that," Aizawa Shouta said calmly. "Let's get on with the tests."

* * *

For a group full of future heroes, I had to hand it to class _1A_ : we were downright lunatics. The physical tests had ended hours ago, Aizawa Shouta having revealed to us that the expulsion threat had been nothing more than a 'logical rouse' to coax out our full potential; I frowned at the memory, knowing he was lying. The setting sun was casting eerie shadows throughout the halls as my classmates packed their bags, preparing to return home at the end of an arduous first day.

I packed my school bag slowly, watching carefully as my fellow classmates exited the room one after another. I did not particularly care to explain why I lived on the UA campus; so far I had managed to keep half of my private information _actually private_ , although frog-girl (whose name I now knew to be Tsuyu) and Tenya had successfully assisted in divesting the secrecy surrounding the circumstances of my enrollment.

The fact that I resided on the UA campus, should it be revealed to any of my new classmates, would be a dead giveaway about exactly who I was. For now, they were all in the dark- but how long was that going to last? The last thing I needed, or wanted, on top of everything else, was people knowing that I was one of the teacher's daughters. A mental picture formed briefly in my head: Katsuki violently thrust fireballs at me as he screamed about nepotism.

"Are you headed home, Daichi-chan?"

Ochaco's eager brown eyes met my blue ones as she passed my desk, making her way to the door to our classroom. I did my best to give her a kind smile as I made up a lie in my head; again, she looked uncomfortable. I must have been really bad at smiling.

"No, not yet," I replied apologetically. "I have to go to talk to an administrator about my hero costume. I haven't submitted it yet,"

"Really?" Ochaco gasped. "Go, Daichi-chan, go! You have to get that done!"

I smiled and waved as she dashed through the door, returning my wave and urging me to get my costume taken care of 'pronto'. My excuse, of course, had been a lie- my father had been nagging me about it months before the entrance exam had even taken place. However, I couldn't very well walk with Ochaco and Izuku to the school gate, only to have to explain why I needed to double back and walk farther into the UA campus to get home.

With a sigh I slung my school bag over my shoulder, making for the door so that I could finally go home and perhaps get some peace and quiet. My temporary solace was interrupted by the realization that I was not, in fact, completely alone.

Shaggy two-toned hair, which hung in his face as he dug in his bag to check that he had gotten everything, met my gaze as I turned my head away from the door towards which I had been previously headed. I watched him for what seemed like only a moment before realizing that I had actually been staring for several minutes. Todoroki Shouto was no longer digging in his bag, and was instead staring straight back at me unabashedly, his icy gaze boring holes into me just as it had done earlier that day. His school bag hung over his shoulder, his hands were stuffed lazily into the depths of his pockets, and his mismatched eyes met my own.

"What?" he said flatly.

I flinched, awkwardness taking over my body instantly, like a hot flash. I felt my cheeks pink up with the sudden attention of the boy I had been engaged in an on-again off-again staring contest with for most of the day. My eyes darted about the classroom as I desperately tried to find something to say in reply- preferably something witty- but I came up empty. I cursed herself for my mediocre sociability. No, scratch that- I didn't even have the right to call my social skills 'mediocre'; damn my old man for making me be homeschooled during my most formative years.

"You got in on recommendations." Shouto began.

I glanced up, realizing that he was disregarding my obvious signs of distress and had instead chosen to close the distance between us. His tone was still low and monotonous; it wasn't a question. I nodded, though I knew he didn't need an answer from me. His hands were still in his pockets; I wondered vaguely if he had anything interesting in those pockets. Had it been me, I would probably put something practical like a stress ball in there, or maybe something fun to break the ice, like a Chinese finger trap.

"Me, too." he said at last.

"O… Oh," I muttered nervously.

My cheeks were definitely getting pinker- I probably looked like I had suffered a terrible sunburn. I was completely unsure of what I was supposed to say. 'Congratulations'; 'Good for you'; 'Go to hell'? I mentally sifted through a compiled list of potential replies, but none of them really seemed all that appropriate. When in doubt, I chose to stay silent. Todoroki Shouto's eyes were fixated on me, not leaving my face as I worked through my social confusion.

"Seems like we might be rivals from now on,"

"I'd say most everyone in here are going to end up rivals at some point," I replied, finally thinking of something vague and non-threatening to reply with. "Wouldn't you say so? I mean, we're all working towards the same goal, after all."

Shouto smirked, a soft laugh escaping his lips, eyes sliding shut briefly as though he were mulling over my words. I couldn't help but notice that the combination of his two-toned hair and mismatched eyes was actually somewhat pleasant; he was almost pretty. Even the scar over his left eye was almost mesmerizing to look at.

"You may be right," he replied at last. "Even so, you and I are the only two in class that got in by recommendations alone." Shouto continued. I pursed my lips sourly; someone singling me out as a rival so soon, and even confronting me directly, had not been on my list of _things to do at hero high school_. "You beat me in several of the physical fitness categories... A Quirk like yours is impressive, even if that Bakugo guy doesn't get it yet."

Now it was my turn to laugh, though I kept my fingernails dug into my palms nervously; weirdly, the pain helped me stay grounded, calm. The joke did nothing to relieve me of the tense feeling I was feeling throughout my entire body, nor did it cure me of the mysterious butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

"Are your parents pros?"

"What?"

"You've clearly been through a lot of training," Shouto clarified, taking a step forward. "I'm asking: which pro heroes are your parents?"

I swallowed nervously, taking a tiny, nervous step away from Shouto, who I now realized was now much too close for comfort. I did not care to admit it to myself, but being this close to a boy who I was not being told to fight made me incredibly nervous. I felt her cheeks flush, even more than they already had been. What was _wrong_ with me? Shouto took another step towards me, closing what little distance I had managed put between us; I could now see, in astounding detail, the extent of the scar of his left eye. That was how I knew that he was much too close.

"Daichi."

A voice cut through the tense atmosphere of the the classroom. Shouto's eyes shifted towards the classroom door, which had been left ajar. The dim evening light filtering in was blocked slightly by whoever had interrupted us. Shouto took a step back, returning my precious personal space; I looked to my left, blue eyes full of panic as they desperately sought my rescuer.

In the doorway stood Aizawa Shouta, his tall and slender frame dispersing the light of the sunset, casting narrow shadows across the classroom floor. His eyes looked as tired and bloodshot as ever, though they looked slightly more threatening than usual. My eyes were fixated on his, though his dark pupils were fixated on Shouto aggressively. Shouto adjusted his school bag before turning in the direction of the door, clearly recognizing Shouta's presence as his cue to leave.

"I see…" I heard him mutter under his breath. My breath caught in my throat. Did he know?

"Daichi," Aizawa Shouta repeated.

He didn't move from his place in the doorway as Shouto skulked passed him, squeezing by in what little room Shouta had left him between his own body and the door. Shouta waited patiently as Shouto's footsteps disappeared down the hallway.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked me at last, motioning with his hand for me to follow him. "It's time to go home."

My heart still pounding in her ears, I let out a sigh of relief as I made my way towards the doorway where Aizawa Shouta stood waiting. I lifted my school bag over my shoulder, adjusting it due to the weight. Aizawa Shouta lifted it from my grasp with one hand, instead putting it over his own shoulder without saying a word. The two of us walked briefly in silence through the dimly lit halls of UA high school, our footsteps echoing through the now empty classrooms.

"Good first day?" he asked awkwardly. I shrugged.

"Sure." I replied quietly. "I guess… Real school is sort of weird."

"Make any friends?"

"I dunno," I said, just as quietly. "Maybe Ochaco. Izuku is nice." He raised an eyebrow at me. "His Quirk is weird."

"Indeed…" he sighed. He had clearly having run out of things to ask me.

We exited the school, turning to our left and making a beeline for the teacher apartments on the other side of the campus. I stared down at my hands, where I was concentrating on floating a small pebble just above my palms. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Aizawa Shouta gazing at me with a guarded cheerfulness. He was staring down at me with evident fondness, though he had been careful not to show it during class. I was grateful for his discretion, as the fondness he was now displaying was more than mildly embarrassing.

"Sorry for not being around for breakfast," he muttered at last, cutting through the heavy silence. I felt a smile tug on the corners of my mouth, though I was careful not to let it spread.

"It's fine, papa," I replied stiffly. The pebble dropped into my hands and I tossed it away, having at last grown bored of making it float.

"Are we cooking dinner for mom tonight?"

My father nodded glumly, putting a hand on my head and ruffling my orange hair. I frowned slightly, batting his hand away with my own, feeling more and more like a child the closer we got to our home.

"Yeah," he said, staring up at the sunset. "Sorry you had to have your first day on the anniversary." he muttered apologetically. "It just wouldn't have been good to miss your first day." I nodded curtly.

"It's fine. I didn't think about her much." I sighed.

Suddenly to my right I noticed what appeared to be a shadow; I paused, staring in its direction. It shivered, quivering from its place behind a tree before disappearing a moment later. I narrowed my eyes in confusion, though I said nothing. Up ahead of me my father paused, too, glancing back at me with an almost identical expression of confusion. If you looked carefully, our mannerisms were remarkably similar.

"I was too busy policing your class to think about such bummer things." I said, suddenly feeling more cheerful.

I turned to catch up with my father, who I now realized was smiling and laughing, though he could not hide the hint of nervousness in his laughter. We continued walking, the silence of the UA campus a welcome break from a loud and mildly stressful day. I glanced over at my father- my papa, Eraserhead- out of the corners of my eyes. The two of us, however different, were at least alike in our appreciation of silence.

At last we arrived back at our apartment. My father fished around in his pockets for a brief moment before turning towards me, his expression apologetic.

"You forgot your key again…" I sighed, digging in my bag, which still hung over his shoulder.

"Sorry, Daichi,"

The inside of the apartment felt slightly warmer than the cool air of the spring evening outside. My father was already inside and rifling through the pots and pans in the kitchen, quiet muttering and faint curses meeting my ears from down the hallway to the front door. I paused, peering over my shoulder into the trees that dotted the landscape within the walls of UA.

This was one of the safest institutions on earth… So just why was it that I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was out there watching me?

* * *

 **Please read and review! I have put the first two chapter re-writes up this evening, while the rewritten third chapter as well as a brand new fourth chapter will be up ~hopefully~ by the end of tomorrow! (the 13th) thank you everyone who has read/followed/favorited/reviewed so far, it means so much and is always appreciated. if you care to, please review and give me your thoughts on the rewrite!**

 **~Shi-chan**


	3. Vigor

**DISCLAIMER: i don't own any part of My Hero Academia- the plot and characters all belong to Horikoshi Kohei**

* * *

 _"Costumes are the symbols of heroics! No ordinary garb will suffice!"_

* * *

I had never really been one for costumes. Even as a young girl, I had never really grasped the wonderment of a costume that seemed to enthrall so many others who were my age; even the relatively simple concept of Halloween escaped me. It was for this very reason that when the time had come for my father to demand that I come up with a costume design, I had done what any annoyed teenager would do: I did the bare minimum.

The thought of costumes had filled my mind all day. I had woken up with the notion of costumes dancing around inside my skull early in the morning, my house empty and quiet, as my father had already scurried off to the main school building. It had been in the forefront of my mind as Present Mic tried to teach us English, and it had been distracting me while while Cooking Hero Lunch Rush gave us the thumbs up in the cafeteria. It simply would not leave me alone.

"Daichi-chan, are you alright?"

The worried eyes of Uraraka Ochaco gazed up at me from her place at our lunch table, concern painting her fingers in a manner that seemed almost embarrassingly obvious. Beside her sat Izuku, who was also looking at me worriedly through a mouthful of rice. Iida Tenya sat with us as well; his habit of clinging to us during the fitness test the previous day seemed to have stuck.

"Of course, super alright," I replied monotonously, mimicking Lunch Rush and giving Ochaco a thumbs up. "This rice is good."

"What the heck is wrong with you?" Ochaco and Izuku said in unison. Tenya looked beffudled.

"Was that supposed to be you pretending to be alright?" he asked me blatantly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You know that only works if you put some effort into faking it, right?" I was puzzled.

"I gave the thumbs up." I replied.

Confusion painted my features as I inspected my hand. Was there some kind of trick to this that I had missed? Ochaco's giggle smothered a scolding that was about to escape Tenya's mouth. Izuku smiled, too, though his eyes were more trained on Ochaco than on me, which I found to be quite charming, though I couldn't overlook his naïveté; he was clearly brand new to having crushes on girls.

Just as the thought entered my head, none other than Todoroki Shouto marched down the aisle of the cafeteria. He paused at the head of our table very briefly on his journey to the trashcan to empty what was left of the rice in his bowl; our eyes met, and I felt my cheeks heat up immediately. Clearly, I had no room to talk when it came to naïveté. Shouto was gone with a small _huff!_ , leaving me to be confused and embarrassed in front of new friends, wiping my now sweaty palms desperately on the hem of my skirt.

"That was weird." Ochaco mumbled absentmindedly, kindly pretending not to notice me as I wiped sweat off of my forehead. "Anyways," she began again, her voice bright as her eyes returned to me. I felt slightly less sweaty. "We were asking you why you're being so weird today and then you tried to hide your weird feelings which only made you seem more weird. Spill. what's bothering you?" I muttered something very quietly, barely moving my lips. "What was that?"

"Hero costumes…" I muttered again. Why did I have to sweat so much? "I've been preoccupied with hero costumes."

"Costumes?" Ochaco's laugh was loud as she repeated my worry back to me. A girl in our class, a girl with an acidic Quirk, glanced our way at the noise. "Why on earth would you be so bothered by them?"

"I don't get them!" I replied earnestly. Even Tenya was now chuckling, which alerted me to just how ridiculous I was behaving. I flushed for a second time, standing up from the table swiftly and grabbing my food tray. "Never mind!" I said loudly, _harrumph_ -ing loudly and turning my nose up at them. I was sure that I looked foolish, but at the time I just couldn't care less. "That's the last time I'll ever come to you guys with a problem!"

"Daichi-san! We were only kidding!"

"Awh, Daichi-chan~"

"Daichi-kun, be reasonable."

Izuku, Ochaco, and Tenya created a chorus as I stalked away bitterly from our table. I dumped my remaining rice into the trashcan with a heavy sigh, deciding that I may as well go to class early now that I had childishly fled my lunch table.

The silence of the currently empty class _1A_ greeted me as I slid the door open glumly. My eyes wandered to the opposite wall of the classroom, where several barely visible lines indicated to me where our battle gear was currently being stored; I pursed my lips.

"Stupid costumes…"

"Talking to yourself?"

A quiet _eep!_ escaped my lips, feeling a shiver run up my spine as I was suddenly alerted to another presence in the classroom. I turned my head to face the person who had spoken, though there was not a doubt in my mind that I knew exactly who it was, already. As I had expected, the icy stare of Todoroki Shouto met my own from his place towards the back of the classroom, where he sat alone, hands on top of his desk, fingers interlaced in a reserved and professional sort of way. It almost made me feel as though I were a student receiving a talking-to from a teacher.

"Oh, hello. I didn't see you there-" I began stiffly, but I was quickly cut off.

"Don't talk to me like you're on television."

"Well~ wouldja look who-" I tried again. And failed.

"No." Shouto snapped, narrowing his mismatched eyes. "What the hell- Speak normally, would you?" I paused, my body tangibly deflating as I let what little false bravado I had left leave me. I frowned, feeling much less brave and considerably more anxious.

"Sorry," I said softly as I took a seat one row over and several desks in front of where Shouto was sitting. It was close enough to talk, but far enough away where I felt comfortable. "Hey." Shouto's cold eyes regarded me from his place at the desk.

"There." he responded, his tone calm and level. I admired people who always spoke as though completely unaffected by others. "Isn't that less stressful?" I shrugged, not wanting to admit that he had helped me.

Shouto leaned forward, and I could have almost sworn that I heard a chuckle rumbling somewhere deep in his chest. I flushed; it seemed almost conceited to think that I could make such a person laugh. Though, if he _were_ laughing, it was likely _at me_ rather than _because of_ me.

"What's your name?" Shouto asked me.

I turned my head, my blue eyes meeting his. His expression remained unchanged, still guarded and as icy as his Quirk. I could not tell if his sudden interest was coming from a place of genuinity or competitiveness.

"Daichi."

"And your last name?"

"Just calling me Daichi is fine," I assured him with nervous laughter. "It's what everyone else does."

"I'd like to know your full name." he insisted. His gaze was getting more heated; I guess that was why his hair was only _half_ white.

"Why?"

My voice now had an edge to it, so much so that I almost surprised myself. My gaze hardened, meeting Shouto's eye line. Not as I had before, with a blush on my cheeks, but with the same guarded stare that he so frequently used on me. Shouto's eyes narrowed, clearly apprehensive of my newfound bravery.

"Why do you want to know what my last name is so badly?" I asked again, this time being more specific. I kept my gaze trained on Shouto, though he was a worthy adversary. I was certain he had won his fair share of staring contests. "Why are you being so persistent?" Shouto took a minute before answering.

"I suspect that I already know the answer, but I wanted to see if you would tell me," he admitted at last. "I see now that you probably won't."

"I don't see why my last name's so important to you," I replied curtly. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, and despite myself I felt my cheeks heat up; I wanted to smack myself in the face.

"Would it happen to be Aizawa?" Shouto asked. My breath caught in my throat for a second, a frown marring my features. I could tell by his triumphant smirk and the smugness of his tone that he already knew he was right. "Aizawa Daichi?"

"... That's me…" I said through clenched teeth.

My frustration, I told myself, had less to do with the gravity of my secret and more to do with this boy getting a one-up on me. Shouto's body relaxed, the tensest part of the conversation now over with. He leaned back in his chair with a calm expression on his face, hands resting behind his head, though his eyes were still locked on me.

"Nice to meet you, Aizawa Daichi." he muttered.

Before I could say anything else our classmates suddenly began to re-enter the classroom. A babble of chit-chat greeted my ears as they made their way back into the classroom in groups, lunch seeming to have improved everyone's mood a considerable amount. Shouto reverted to his stiff posture at his desk, his silence indicating that, at least for now, our conversation was over with.

"Daichi-chan!" The bubbly voice of Ochaco overshadowed the inane chatter of the other students with which I was less familiar. "There you are!"

Ochaco and Izuku came to sit beside me, the two of them claiming desks in the row perpendicular to mine. On my other side, Tenya and Tsuyu chose their own desks; as usual, Tenya's face was painted with a stiff eagerness that I was sure was a product of years in private school. Behind Tsuyu was the strange looking girl with the acid Quirk, who smiled at me with all of her teeth.

"I'm Ashido Mina!" she said loudly, waving at me. I waved jerkily, taken aback by her enthusiasm. "Nice to meetcha' Daichi-chan!"

"Did you hear that All Might is supposed to be teaching this class?" Tsuyu's froggy tone cut over Mina's excited babble, though I'd already stopped listening to her; I was beginning to feel slightly overloaded from all the commotion. "Hero Studies…"

"Yeah, my pa-" I began, everyone's eyes turning to look at me. I flushed. "Uhm… Yeah, I did hear that somewhere, I think." I finished lamely, covering up my mistake in a hurry. I could feel Todoroki Shouto's eyes on the back of my neck, which was no doubt just as pink as my face.

A loud slam from the front of the classroom caused every single student in class _1A_ to visibly jump with surprise. My eyes snapped open, and I turned to face the door to the classroom, which was the source of the interruption. In the doorway stood All Might, a large smile stretched across his features. He held himself in the doorway, striking a pose that I could only assume was meant to make him seem more casual, though I had to admit that the effect was quite the opposite.

"It's me!" All Might called. I was surprised that his booming voice did not shake that desks we sat in. The rest of my classmates were wide eyed and nervous, regarding the number one Pro Hero with a mixture of anxiousness and awe. "Using the door like a normal person!"

I pursed my lips. Costumes being the source of most of my annoyance for the day I could not help but note that All Might's costume was strikingly reminiscent of Silver Age comics; I had to admit, such a style held a certain charm, though it was not exactly my taste. All Might came to rest behind a podium by the chalkboard, looking out at us with an expression that resembled that of a child's on Christmas morning.

"Foundational Hero Studies!" All Might began excitedly from his place at the chalkboard. I glanced to my right, observing the other students. Bakugo Katsuki looked surprisingly enthralled with All Might. "For this class, we'll be building up your hero foundation through various trials! You'll get tons of credit for it…" I couldn't help but chuckle at the level enthusiasm he had for his own class. Suddenly, All Might held out a small sign towards the class. It read 'BATTLE' in large yellow letters. Bakugo Katsuki smirked widely.

"Let's jump right in with this! The trial of battle!"

Next to me I heard Izuku gulp nervously, and I noticed that Katsuki was now glaring in our direction rather aggressively. Most of the class either looked very nervous, or simply mildly accepting, all except for Katsuki, who looked thrilled- albeit in the most terrifying way imaginable.

"And to go with your first battle…" All Might began again, a more dramatic tone in his voice. "We've prepared the gear we had you send in requests for to match your Quirks!"

From the far wall, the little lines I had noticed revealed themselves to be exactly as I had expected. As if on cue, one by one long drawers extended out of the wall. Each compartment was marked with a number, which I could only assume corresponded to each of us. Several students jumped up excitedly, including Izuku.

"Our battle gear!" Kirishima Eijiro, a red haired boy with a hardening Quirk, yelled excitedly in response to All Might's big reveal. "Awesome!"

"Get changed and we'll be ready to go!" All Might exclaimed. The other students began to swarm the drawers, looking for their numbers and pulling their costumes out of the corresponding compartments. I stayed in my seat, having no desire to wade through the large coagulation of people surrounding the costumes.

"Everyone gather at Grounds B. The garb you bring into the battlefield is vitally important, boys and girls! And don't forget, from here on out, you're all officially heroes!"

I frowned, finally leaving my place at my desk and wandering toward the compartment with my number on it. Pulling the dark cloth out of the compartment, I felt relief wash over me as I realized that they had done what I had asked and kept it simple. At least now I wouldn't look ridiculous. Out of the corner of my eyes I caught sight of Katsuki, who was toting a pair of what looked like giant grenades; I blanched.

The last person on Earth who should be allowed to have giant grenades was Bakugo Katsuki.

* * *

"All right! Let's see what you're made of, you embryos!"

I stood amongst my classmates anxiously, tugging at the sleeves of my costume. Glancing around, I realized quickly that my costume was the most basic among my classmates. Despite my satisfaction with a simple costume, I suddenly felt anxious about it; Todoroki Shouto had arrived at the training grounds with half of his body covered in what looked like fake ice.

"That's all you have for your costume, Daichi?" Ochaco asked, glancing at me through the clear shield on her helmet.

Although her costume was more simple than others, it still had its fair share of bulk and extraneousness. I replied with a nervous laugh, glancing down to observe my own costume; a simple black leotard met my gaze, and I was still tugging on the ends of its long sleeves out of nervousness.

"Well, it's made from wicking material…" I mumbled. Behind us I heard Izuku arrive, sounding slightly out of breath. "I tend to get really overheated when I'm training for some reason. Something to do with how my Quirk works, my papa says."

"Your costume is cool, Deku!" Ochaco exclaimed. I paused, slightly confused that she would call him by Bakugo Katsuki's insult name, but Izuku didn't seem to mind. "It seems really practical!" Underneath his mask, I could have sworn that Izuku turned three different shades of red after realizing what Ochaco was wearing.

"Uraraka!" he exclaimed loudly. "Whoa!" I pursed my lips and rolled my eyes, though a small smile tugged at my mouth. He sure wasn't subtle. It was now Ochaco's turn to laugh nervously, smiling as she tugged at her costume.

"I wish I'd sketched it a little better…" she mumbled. The rest of her sentence escaped me, as I was suddenly aware of someone standing very close to me… Too close. I whipped around, expecting to meet someone's gaze; no one was there. Then, I looked down.

A weird looking kid that I had, for some reason, never noticed before was staring back and forth between Ochaco and I repeatedly, his eyes glossed over. A languid smile covered his face, and I could have sworn I saw some drool making its way out of the corners of his mouth. I frowned more deeply than I ever had before, feeling disgust bubble in the pit of my stomach.

"Who the hell are you?" I snapped, not really caring to coddle the stranger who was ogling Ochaco and myself. Izuku looked in the direction I was facing, now also realizing that this strange person had appeared.

"H-heroics… Is amazing…" the boy muttered, giving Izuku the thumbs up. Izuku looked confused; I was truly disgusted.

"Please leave." I said darkly.

"I'd do what she asks, Mineta…" Izuku warned.

Before the small, strange person could do anything, I had lifted him up with a few small rocks and transported him to the other side of the crowd, dumping him unceremoniously next to Bakugo Katsuki. I steadfastly ignored the glower that he sent in my direction.

"I'm liking everyone's style!" All Might's booming voice told us that it was the end of admiring costumes, and time to start class. "Let's begin: the trial of battle!" I straightened my body attentively, digging my bare toes into the sand, wriggling them around.

"Sensei!" A robotic-looking individual standing near us spoke up, and I realized from the voice that it was Tenya. He looked like a Transformer. "Regarding the performance grounds we'll be using- Is it the mock city from the entrance exam?"

"You'll see," All Might began, his voice still loud. "In fact, take two steps and you'll be there! This will be an indoor battle trial! Villain cleanup is usually seen out in the open but, statistically, the better part of it is an indoor job." The class stood in front of him, silent and attentive. I glanced around carefully, noticing a tall cement building a few yards in front of us. "Most acts of villainy are committed indoors. Imprisonment... House arrest... The black market... In this hero-saturated society- Why, any villain with intelligence is lurking in the shadows! For this test, you'll separate into villain and hero groups for a two-on-two team battle!"

"What about foundational training?" Tsuyu piped up monotonously from the middle of the crowd.

"This _is_ foundational training!" All Might insisted. "Only this time, there won't be any robots you can just destroy." I arched an eyebrow, confused, but the rest of the class seemed to know what he was talking about. I assumed that it had something to do with the entrance exam.

"How do we determine who wins and loses?" I asked, raising my hand but not waiting to be called on.

"Is there a threat of expulsion, like with Aizawa-sensei's exercise?" said Ochaco.

"If we're separating into teams, how should we do that in the most efficient way?" Tenya inquired.

"Doesn't my costume look killer?" The boy with the naval laser was preening himself on the outskirts of the group. No one was paying attention to him except for himself, though he didn't really seem to acknowledge it.

"Is it ok if we just blow our opponents away?" Katsuki snarled. His body was almost quivering with anticipation, and the weird kid named Mineta was looking up at him, terrified.

"He already said we can't go needlessly destroying things, Katsuki." I deadpanned. Katsuki shot a fiery glare in my direction.

"Who said you could call me by my first name, mud-brain?"

"Who said you could call me mud-brain, Sparky?"

"I can't hear you if you all speak at once!"

All Might's loud voice cut all of us off at once, ending my and Katsuki's feud before it could even begin. I suddenly felt mildly guilty, realizing we had been behaving rather rudely. Holding up a miniscule booklet, which I could only assume was All Might's personal cheat sheet for the battle trial rules, he began answering our many inane questions one by one.

"For this training, we'll have some villains guard a nuclear weapon they intend on deploying. The heroes must stop them and their nefarious scheme before it's too late!" I chuckled under my breath, admiring his commitment to the Golden Age of heroism. "If the heroes capture the villains or reach the nuclear core before the time runs out, they win. If the villains manage to keep the core the whole time or capture the heroes, they win." Izuku was nodding excitedly from his place next to me. "Your teammates and opponents, young Iida, will be chosen by lottery!

"Is that really how we'll do it?" Tenya exclaimed. I assumed he was eyeing the box that All Might held in his grasp, but I couldn't quite tell due to the Bionicle-style mask he was wearing.

"Well, Pros are often forced to make impromptu team-ups with other heroes they might not know very well, so this is probably testing that…" Izuku muttered thoughtfully, gaining Tenya's attention as he explained.

"I see!" Tenya responded enthusiastically. "Always with our eyes on the future. I apologize!" All Might, clearly becoming more impatient by the minute, turned away from us to draw from the lottery boxes.

"Anyway!" he exclaimed loudly. "Let's start this! The teams are…"

I fidgeted in the crowd anxiously, glancing around as pairs were called. People looked either thrilled or indifferent, although I was unable to see the invisible girl's- Toru's- expression upon being paired with the lecherous Mineta; Mineta simply pouted, and I had no doubt it was because he was unable to see Toru's breasts. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself at the irony that Toru was completely naked, save for her gloves and shoes.

"Team I: Young Ojiro and Young Daichi!"

I glanced around swiftly, locking eyes with my new partner as All Might paired the final team. He was tall, taller than even I was, with short blonde hair and kind eyes. A thick tail swung behind him, which I thought vaguely resembled a lion's. He smiled, waving at me, his tail swinging back and forth in time with his hand.

"And the first two pairs to do combat-" All Might shouted, reaching into a box labeled 'HEROES' and one labeled 'VILLAINS' with either hand. "Will be the following!"

Each hand emerged from its respective box. Team I, my team, was written on one ball, clutched between All Might's enormous fingertips. The other read Team B. I looked around, trying to determine who our opponents were, since I had not been paying attention until the time my name was called.

"Pair I, young Ojiro and Daichi, will be villains!" All Might said, laughing heartily. "The heroes will be pair B, young Shoji and young Todoroki!" My heart stopped in my chest for a moment. I turned around slowly, somehow knowing that Shouto was behind me, and our eyes met.

This was just my luck.

* * *

"So we just have to guard this thingy?"

Ojiro Mashirao and I stood on the fourth floor of the concrete building that was meant to be the stage for our heroes versus villains performance. Mashirao and I stood side by side in front of the enormous paper mache sculpture of a bomb, which we were meant to protect, though to me it looked more like a rocket. To be fair, I had not the slightest clue what a bomb was supposed to look like in the first place- maybe they were supposed to look like rockets, for all I knew.

"I guess so," he muttered in reply, his tail swishing through the air behind him. "Though I'm pretty nervous about our opposition. Todoroki and Shoji are both very strong." I clapped my new villain partner roughly on the back; he looked mildly surprised by my strength.

"You and Shoji went through the same entrance exam," I said, shooting my best smile at him. He looked confused; I guess it still needed some work. "Don't be so hard on yourself, is all that I meant." I clarified, wiping the smile off of my face.

My bare feet slid across the cool concrete, the chill of the crushed rock cooling my body and calming me down. I took a deep breath, concentrating on the concrete that surrounded us; I had to be very careful using minerals from a structure like a building, since manipulating it too much could easily cause the building to collapse.

"Shouto uses ice, right?" I murmured to Mashirao through my concentration.

"Yeah, he's pretty powerful." he replied glumly.

I nodded as I allowed grainy concrete to cover my feet, wiggling my toes inside the makeshift shoes. I focused more keenly on the minerals around me, pridefully enjoying Mashirao's expression as a small platform I had constructed from borrowed material picked up our fake bomb. I drew the platform to a halt between the floor and the ceiling, levitating it there; I felt my body temperature increase slightly, though the wicking material of my costume helped to deal with the excess sweat.

The wireless receiver in my ear, which connected us to All Might and allowed us to receive his instructions, alerted me that the mock battle had commenced. I piqued my focus yet again, using the concrete shoes I had made to lift myself off of the ground. This, apparently, was not a moment too soon; I blinked, and when I had opened my eyes again, the entire room had been covered with ice.

"D-D-Daichi-san," I looked behind me, a chilly-looking Mashirao meeting my gaze. His feet were thoroughly encased with ice, and I grimaced with guilt. He looked like a popsicle.

"Ah… Sorry Ojiro…" I muttered apologetically. I shoulda' lifted you up, too…"

A mild headache had begun to set in, the concentration required to lift multiple objects (the fake bomb and myself) proving to be trickier than I had anticipated. I lowered myself to the ground, my concrete shoes making a scraping noise as I made my way atop the ice. I paused, noticing that footsteps could be heard in the not-so-far-away distance.

"Oh…" Shouto's calm voice bounced off the walls of ice, his tone displaying a modicum of surprise. "I had expected to take care of you both with that attack…"

Before I had much time to think, Shouto's ice was coming straight for me; sharp daggers of frozen water cropping up from the ground almost too quickly for the eye to follow. Instinctively I dropped our bomb to the floor, switching my concentration to the concrete below the layer of ice Shouto had created.

Glassy shards of ice sprayed through the air as Shouto's attack made contact with a wall of concrete. My defense sprouted up through the permafrost like one of the first flowers of spring. I let out a sigh of relief, though I had little time to bask in my small triumph; a second later I heard the ice coming for me yet again. I leapt to my right, dodging the attack and extending the building's concrete floor to come up in front of the bomb to shield it from Shouto.

A grunt of exertion escaped my throat, my shoulder making rough contact with the frozen floor as I landed gracelessly behind a concrete pillar. I looked up, around the room, realizing that there were several of them. I allowed a smirk to tug at my features; this pillar would be my saving grace.

Taking an enormous chunk of pillar with me I leapt in Shouto's direction. He stood in the center of the room, his mismatched eyes searching for me, meaning to take me out before claiming the bomb and the win for the hero team. He frowned when he saw me, grunting slightly as he sent a wall of ice careening in my direction.

"Nice try!" I cried.

I rolled across the ground, sending a chunk of rock to meet Shouto's ice head on. A loud crunch met my ears as the concrete hunk I'd taken from the pillar made short work of the ice; tiny ice crystals sprayed through the air as the rock cleared my path. I crouched low to the ground, avoiding another wall of ice that Shouto had sent around my own attack by rolling and sliding forward on the icy floor.

"Gotcha!"

Ice met rock as Shouto and I collided in the middle of the room. Shouto's expression was a mixture of shock and frustration; clearly, he had not been expecting much resistance. My arms, completely covered in concrete, struggled against Shouto's briefly before he pushed me away, sending another wall of ice at me.

I sent up my own wall, guarding me from Shouto's attack. The ice spread over the wall, and I heard it creak as the ice began to make its way through the porous material; in a heartbeat I shattered the wall myself, destroying Shouto's attack and my own defense in one go. An angry-looking Shouto met my eyes from the other side of the wall.

Our fight continued on like this, and I quickly lost track of how much time had passed. Shouto's ice was continuously blocked by my concrete, the ice would attempt to break through my defense, and then I would negate both by shattering the rock. I had been watching Shouto carefully all the while, being careful to note that the longer our fight went on, the colder he appeared. He seemed out of breath, his labored breathing I could clearly see exiting his mouth in little puffs of air, made visible by the cold temperature of the room.

"You're tougher than you look," Shouto muttered darkly from his position opposite me. Neither of us had budged. Mashirao watched us from his place near the bomb, his feet still stuck to the floor.

"You're less threatening than you-"

"Daichi-san, careful!"

My words were cut off by a sudden blow to my back. The impact sent my flying towards Shouto, who narrowed his eyes in concentration and sent a wall of ice to greet me. I bit my lip in concentration, letting out a strained grunt as i brought part of the concrete wall down to meet me; Shouto's ice shattered on contact.

Shouto's partner, Mezo, had at last joined the fight. I was not sure where he had been all this time, and despite knowing that he was just following instructions I shot a glower in his direction. Blows to the back and sneak attacks were low, and he had done both at once. Mezo charged no sooner had I landed back on the ground, his eight muscular arms seeming suddenly much more intimidating than usual. With ice fast approaching from my left, and a muscular octopus from my front, I will admit that I panicked.

With a shrill cry I brought two concrete pillars towards me, ripping them away from the floor and ceiling as though I were merely tearing up weeds from a garden. With a loud crash, I sent one of them in Shouto's direction; he grunted as his ice attack shattered around him and he stumbled backwards. The other I crumbled into tiny chunks, balling my hands into fists in front of me as I did so.

Mezu wound up a fist- I couldn't tell if it was his real fist or one of his octopus extremities- aiming for my face. He met a rock instead, which he shattered; I blanched at the thought that such a hit had been intended for myself. I clench one fist still tighter, forming a floating replica of my own hand out of parts of the pillar that I had destroyed. Mezu growled as I grabbed hold of one of his ankles with it, which proceeded to send him flying. I crouched down low, chunks of rock orbiting the entirety of my body as I readied myself for another attack-

"Time's up!" All Might's voice coming from the radio receivers in our ears made us all stop short. "The hero team failed to capture the bomb! Come out of the performance area and we'll assess your performance as a group!"

Shouto sighed, and I couldn't tell if it was from disappointment or frustration. He crouched to the ground, placing one hand on it and melting the ice he had used to incapacitate Mashirao, who was shivering profusely. Mezu nodded in my direction, muttering what sounded like 'good fight' from under his mask. I smiled nervously, making to reply to him; a sudden shake from the building made me stop.

"What's going on?" Mashirao murmured, gazing around the room curiously. "Was that the building shaking just now?"

"Ah, crap…" I sighed, realizing immediately what was happening. The two spots where I had ripped up the pillars taunted me from the floor and ceiling; I had made a bad decision. "Everyone, leave." I said stiffly, and I felt my body temperature spike drastically.

My entire body felt damp from sweat from my fight, and I realized with a shock that my skin had grown clammy. I concentrated hard, focussing only on the concrete around us like my life depended on it; my headache was getting worse, and I was beginning to feel sick. The building stabilized slightly, though I heard the familiar crumbling noise of rock breaking.

"Daichi-san," Mezu began, his eyes fixed on me. "What's going on?" I pursed my lips, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute; it was everything I could do to keep the building from breaking apart, and this guy was standing around and asking questions?

"I'm… I think my Quirk destabilized the building…" I muttered through clenched teeth. "Please just leave… I can't hold it up for that much longer." Mezu, Mashirao and Shouto exchanged glances briefly as the building shook again.

"Yeah, right." Shouto muttered nonchalantly, as if the building wasn't gearing up to collapse on our heads any second. "We're supposed to just leave you here, then? I don't think so." His words were heroic, but his tone sounded almost bored. Had I not been dedicating all of my energy to keeping a roof over our heads, I would have rolled my eyes. "Just keep concentrating. Don't break focus."

"I wasn-"

My words were cut off as Shouto swept me into his arms, following Mezu and Mashirao out of the door and down the stairs without another word. I wanted to protest- to yell something that brazen girls yell in Slice of Life manga when boys tried to impose themselves on them; unfortunately, I could now feel the bile rising in my throat, and a warm liquid dripped out of my nostrils. My head was pounding every time my heart beat.

In my mind's eye I could feel every tiny pebble in the concrete that held the building up working against me. I squeezed my eyes tightly, concentrating harder on the concrete structure; I would contemplate how ludicrous it was of me to try and hold an entire building together with sheer willpower was at a later time.

"Ah, there you all are!" All Might's voice greeted us. My heart skipped a beat; we were outside. "Ah, Young Todoroki… Why are you carrying Young-"

Unceremoniously I released my control, dropping the building like a tired student drops their backpack onto the floor after getting home from school. I felt my body go limp in Shouto's arms, blood streaming across my lips from my nose, a long sigh escaping my lips as I allowed my mind to let go of the building. A collective note of surprise escaped the mouths of my classmates as the building we had just exited came tumbling down, the infrastructure having clearly been made unstable by my Quirk's meddling.

"... What kind of fight did you all have in there…" The monotonous voice of Tsuyu made its way to my ears of the low rumblings from the building far behind us.

"Thanks for not killing us." Shouto muttered, looking down at me as he held me. I blinked, my eyelids heavy from over exertion. I opened my mouth to reply.

"You're-"

And then I promptly threw up all over him.


	4. Intrigue

" _People are not equal from birth... The truth everyone in society knows."_

* * *

"Clamminess, nausea, headaches… Shouta, you're very lucky your daughter didn't suffer a severe heat stroke."

The sunlight was blinding as it made its way through the blinds of Recovery Girl's office. A migraine still pounded subtly in my skull, a sharp twinge accompanying it as I opened my eyes. The sun was like an onslaught of razor sharp knives to my eyes, tender from my overexertion in our mock fight in All Might's class. I blinked several times, my eyesight becoming more clear each time.

My entire body ached, and with each miniscule movement it felt like my head might explode; I wondered vaguely if this was what a hangover felt like. The coolness of the stiff doctor's office sheets was relieving, and the plushness of the mattress and pillows was comforting. I looked to my left, my eyes coming to rest on Recovery Girl, who was perched on a stool a few feet from my bed. By her side stood my father, Aizawa Shouta, whose normally placid demeanor was marred with worry as he listened carefully to what Recovery Girl was telling him.

"Does this happen very often?" Recovery Girl asked. She kept her tone light, noticing that my father's face was creased with worry; between that and the redness caused by his dry eye, he was looking rather worse for wear. "I remember something happening like this when she was just a young girl, but not recently…"

"Yes…" my father murmured pensively. The two of them had yet to realize that I had woken up. "This happened a lot when she was very young, and when we first started training." he continued. For a moment he glanced over in my direction, and I snapped my eyes shut, feigning unconsciousness; I wanted to hear what he had to say. "Something about her Quirk causes her core temperature to rise a lot when she's using it. From what All Might said, she did quite a lot on her own during the mock battle… No doubt going past her limits with her Quirk has the potential to raise her temperature to a dangerous level."

"I fail to see how an elemental Quirk that isn't related to fire would cause one's body temperature to rise…" Recovery Girl mused; my father nodded.

"Yes, I've considered that." he replied. His voice was very low now, a harsh whisper, though whispers accomplished little in the small office the three of us currently occupied. "I can only imagine that it has something to do with the mechanics of the Quirk. Although…" He paused.

"Although…?" Recovery Girl pressed. My whole body was stiff with anticipation; this conversation had taken quite a turn. Had my father been hiding things about my Quirk from me? If so, what was it? I had to know…

"I've noticed she is always running a low fever, even if she isn't sick. She's always sweating. Even when Daichi isn't using her Quirk, her body temperature is constantly well above average." Recovery Girl made a thoughtful noise in her throat, urging my father to continue. "I have always wondered…"

"Wondered?" Recovery Girl said; she could no longer disguise her own eagerness. "Wondered what?" My father took a deep breath, though I could tell by the sound of it that it had done nothing to calm his nerves.

"I have always wondered how- or rather, why- Daichi got an elemental Quirk like that between her mother and I." he said at last. His voice was low and serious, and my breath caught in my throat. He rarely spoke of my mother. "Quirks are proven to be hereditary… My Quirk negates things. Essentially, I can manipulate a person's Quirk to stop. Izanami's… Well, we've seen what her Quirk is capable of… And that's not even taking into account Daichi's sib-"

I coughed and spluttered without warning, my loud hacking disrupting the exchanged between my father and Recovery Girl that I had been eavesdropping on. I had suddenly realized that I had forgotten to breathe this entire time.

"Ah- Daichi-chan!" Recovery Girl breathed, sounding relieved. The expression my father wore was apprehensive; did he know that I had been awake this whole time? "Thank goodness, awake at last."

"Ah- how- how long was I out?" I asked through my coughing fit.

"Several hours." my father answered. I felt something warm come to rest on my head, and peering upwards I realized that my father had sat himself at the head of my bed, his fingers running themselves through my hair in a comforting manner. "Your classmates have gone home. Todoroki Shouto brought you here, stayed longer than I'd've liked." he grumbled, his tone sounding sour. Despite myself, I giggled at his fatherly charm. "Midoriya's motley crew came to visit you on their way out, as well."

"That was nice of them…" I murmured, smiling as I spoke.

My father smiled, patting my head softly again before handing me a cup of water, which I accepted. It was only when I moved my hand to reach for the cup that I realized that I was hooked up to an IV.

"They brought you some applesauce from the cafeteria, but I ate it." my father said at length. I stopped drinking my water.

"Papa!" I shouted, placing the cup down roughly. "Don't go eating my get well snacks, what's your problem?"

"You were asleep for such a long time," he sighed as Recovery Girl chuckled from the foot of my bed. "I feared you may never wake up."

"Yeah, right!"

"I'll cook you something when we get-"

My father's words were cut off sharply by the door to the infirmary being opened, a loud _thud!_ meeting my ears as it hit the doorframe roughly. In the door stood Bakugo Katsuki; he looked thoroughly flustered, his eyes narrow and angry, mouth contorted in a strange snarl that made his teeth jut out past his lips, which were curling threateningly. Upon noticing my father, who was still sitting at the head of my bed, his mask of rage contorted slightly to make room for his confusion.

"Aizawa-sensei…" he muttered darkly, stepping into Recovery Girl's office. "What're you doin' here?"

"One of my students almost suffered a severe heat stroke," my father lied easily. His black eyes were regarding Katsuki with a calm displeasure, which I was sure was more than evident to Katsuki from his place in the doorway. "I felt it my duty to check up on her. On that note, what are _you_ doing here, Bakugo?"

Despite pretending to be nothing more than my homeroom teacher, my father could do very little to disguise the guarded and threatening tone in his voice. It was the kind of voice a father used when their daughters were taken out on a date for the first time, while they were giving the boy a talking to; the fact that this tone was being directed at Katsuki made me somewhat frustrated.

"I came to talk to Landslide." Katsuki replied calmly. His thin eyes were regarding me a rebellious sort of anxiousness that I did not recognize; somewhere between annoyance and betrayal.

"Landslide?" I asked, my eyebrow twitching to display my own annoyance. Katsuki chuckled, but it came out as more of a _huff_.

"You really brought the house down, y'know," he muttered as he closed the door behind him. My father and I exchanged glances, doing our best to keep our mutual understanding of the situation between ourselves. "Who woulda' known that a squirt like you had so much raw power?"

"Anyone." I replied bitterly. "Anyone with half a mind to pay attention." Katsuki laughed, sounding equally bitter. "Besides, I wouldn't call what I did _power_. I lost control, more like." Another bitter laugh. "As you said, I brought the house down. That was never my intention."

"You held that whole building together while you and those others escaped." Katsuki continued. I felt a grip tighten on my left shoulder, suddenly aware that my father had placed his hand there; he did not look happy. "That Arctic idiot may've had to carry you, but you held a whole building together with your mind."

"What's your point, Katsuki?" I hissed. My tone was no longer amiable; my headache had returned, along with a faint queasiness in the pit of my stomach. Katsuki had overstayed his welcome, and I was not the most patient of people. "If you've got something to say, get to it. Holding together an entire structure can take a lot out of a girl."

I blinked quizzically, my blue eyes watching carefully as Katsuki held out a single fist to me. His expression was hard, resolute, his thin eyes glowering at me. The effort it took his face to make the expression he was currently sporting was made evident by the creases in his forehead, as well as the faint but strained growls that escaped his mouth. His teeth were clenched.

"I'll rise above you." he said at last. He was not bothering to maintain an inside voice. "You, Deku, that kid with the ice- I'll rise above you all! I am going to be the top hero, d'you hear me?"

I paused; my father's grip on my shoulder had tightened still further. It hurt, but I figured I would let him have his way for now. I would use the dull throb in my shoulder as collateral for a bowl of fresh congee ***** when we got home. My lips were now drawn taught, a firm line across the bottom of my face. Katsuki was watching me, his gaze fired with competition. He was serious; he had come all of this way just to give an open declaration of war, however superficial and childish the declaration itself may have been.

"Katsuki," I began at last. A faint grunt escaped my lips as I sat up straighter; the needle in my arm tugged in an uncomfortable way, and my head throbbed with every movement I made. My father's hand tried to force me back down, but I ignored it. "Katsuki, tell me, what is Todoroki Shouto's weakness?"

My question was met with silence. Katsuki's expression flickered, the enraged contortion of his face faltering as he began to consider my question. My blue eyes observed him calmly all the while, my gaze slightly obstructed by loose tendrils of my creamy orange hair; it had become very disheveled during my nap, it seemed. When several minutes had passed with no answer, the four of us occupying a space of tense silence, I took my chance to speak again.

"The truth is, you don't know it." I said calmly. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see my father watching me, giving me his full attention. Katsuki, too, had abandoned his fury to instead focus on my words, albeit begrudgingly. "You don't know Shouto's weakness… You don't know Izuku's, and despite being in the infirmary right now, you don't know what mine is, either."

"What's your point?" he snapped, hands balling into fists. "What, you just trying to rub it in my face that all of you are looking down on me? Huh?"

"Hardly." I replied curtly. "I'm trying to rub it in why, as you are now, you'll never be number one."

I had never seen Katsuki look so angry. His face had turned a deep shade of red, angry sweat beading at his brow line before dripping down the side of his face, temple to chin; I could see very clearly the vein in his temple. His teeth were gritting inside of his mouth, I could even hear the scraping noise they made as his molars rubbed against each other.

"You're being naive, Katsuki, and naive people like you can't be number one." I continued. "You don't pay any mind to other people. I don't know if that's because of some kind of self-righteous confidence, or just arrogant disregard. Either way, while some people will admire that in you, it's your biggest flaw and weakness."

"What the he-"

"Do you think All Might ignores his opponents, or his comrades, and only focuses on himself?" I asked, my tone harsher than before. Katsuki withdrew slightly, considering my words. "No. Of course he doesn't. If he did that, he wouldn't be where he is today. Do you really think you can be the number one hero, even a _good_ hero, if you don't pay attention to the people you're working with and against?"

Katsuki's breathing had become labored, heavy, and I could tell that had my father not been here, or Recovery Girl, he definitely would have tried something by now. Despite all of that, I barrelled on, not caring how he felt about what I was saying, or what he wanted to do to me. My head throbbed, my stomach hurt, and he had the audacity to barge into the infirmary to force his superficial, one-sided competition on me? I refused to let him get away unscathed.

"You can't even become a good villain that way."

"Why, you little-!"

"That's enough."

Katsuki had frozen in place, though I could tell by the way he stood that he had intended to come at me. Recovery Girl was looking at him with a mixture of pity and apprehensiveness; when I glanced up at my father, I suddenly realized why Katsuki had stopped in his tracks.

Aizawa Shouta wore one of the most terrifying expressions that I had ever seen him wear; his black eyes were almost sharklike with the way in which they now regarded Katsuki. My father was not blinking, and I was sure that Katsuki's Quirk was useless in that moment. A threatening aura rolled off of him in waves, and had I been on the receiving end of it, I was sure that I, too, would have stopped in my tracks.

"Bakugo, go home." my father said, finally blinking after five straight minutes of staring Katsuki down in complete silence. "Daichi needs to rest, and if you haven't come here to say anything more productive than that you'll be the number one hero, then I think your business here is finished."

"The hell d'you care?" Katsuki snarled, though he did not budge from his place by the door. He talked big, but in that moment I could tell that he felt afraid. My father's lips pressed into a stern line; he was not at all amused by back-talk.

"Question me again, Bakugo, and you'll regret it." he said.

My father's voice, deep and calm, bore a threat, though I was not clear about just what it was. Katsuki, however, acknowledged the strength of the conviction, bitterly turning towards the door, his expression still livid.

"Whatever," Katsuki murmured, sliding the door open and stepping outside. "Watch your back, clay hands."

Recovery Girl and I exchanged nervous glances as Katsuki exited the room, my father's body becoming immediately less tense. He dropped his hand from my shoulder, standing up in one fluid motion. Nodding to Recovery Girl he picked up my school bag from its place on the floor; Recovery Girl trotted to my side, removing the IV drip and ushering me to stand.

My bare feet touched the floor gingerly, the coolness of the tile sending shivers up my spine. It was not difficult to walk, thankfully, but my legs still shook slightly with every step. Noticing my wobbling, my father bent down in front of me, showing me his back.

"Get on kiddo." he commanded gruffly. My father had never been good at showing fatherly affection; at least, he did so far less gracefully than other fathers. I smiled; I found it to be somewhat endearing. "What's the hold up? Aren't you hungry?"

"Ok, ok," I replied airily as I hopped onto his back. His arms hooked underneath my legs, supporting my weight as he stood back up again. My school bag was still dangling from his shoulder.

"Thanks again, Recovery Girl," he said over his shoulder. Recovery Girl gave a small nod and a smile as we moved towards the door; my father opened it gingerly as he supported me with only one hand.

Our walk back home through the UA campus was silent and uneventful. My bodily and mental exhaustion got the better of me, and before I knew it I had fallen asleep, curled on my father's back, cheek pressed against his shoulder blade. My father shifting my body as he looked for his keys to our door is what jolted me out of my light slumber; I smiled tiredly, dangling my own set of keys in front of his face. I knew he was pouting, frustrated that he had not found his own before waking me up.

"That's my girl," he muttered as he forced the key into the lock; it turned with a click. "Always one step ahead of me."

My father plopped my down on the living room sofa unceremoniously, tossing my bag on the floor next to me with a grunt almost simultaneously. I spread myself out across the couch without a second thought, flipping on the television, though I left it muted; I just wanted something to stare at aimlessly.

The familiar rattling of pots and pans reached my ears from the nearby kitchen. If I peaked up over the armrests of the couch, just barely, I could see my father scurrying around the kitchen. My heart skipped a beat as I noticed that in his hand he held a bag of rice and some ginger root; he was making congee, as though he had read my mind.

"How'd you know?" I asked quietly, peeking my eyes above the armrest of the couch to stare at my father. He glanced over his shoulder, bloodshot eyes meeting mine only briefly before returning to his work on the stovetop.

"You always ask me for congee when you're sick."

The meal was a quick fix, and in no time at all the entire first floor of our house had been filled with the aromatic scent of boiling ginger. It clung to the air, filling my lungs; it was soothing, and before I knew it the nausea in my stomach had dissipated.

The couch sank in as my father took a seat at the other end, slapping my feet aside; it was half teasing, but I knew he disliked it when I put my feet on the furniture. I raised myself up on one elbow, taking the bowl that he offered me, unable to conceal my eagerness. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw him smile as I took a big spoonful, which I promptly spat back out upon realizing how hot it was. The congee scalded my tongue, and my father laughed.

"Good to see you're feeling better," he murmured as he blew on the soup in his spoon. He took a bite, smirking at me through his mouthful of soup as I nursed my burnt tongue before calmly swallowing it.

"Mm." I made a nondescript noise in my throat, concentrating on cooling my next bite of soup. My next attempt at eating went much better.

"Mind if I ask what happened out there?" my father said finally; he had so obviously been itching to ask.

"I dunno," I mumbled through a mouthful of soup. "I screwed up I guess."

"There's no point not talking about it. I have all of my students' evaluations, I just haven't read them yet." I frowned, annoyed. "But I'd rather hear what you have to say, first." I sighed, putting my bowl on the coffee table, spoon still stuck in the soup.

"I dunno, papa," I repeated, sighing as though answering him were the most difficult thing on the whole planet. "My partner got stuck in Shouto's ice, so I was alone-"

"You only protected yourself from the ice?"

"I already said I screwed up!" I protested, shooting my father a glare. "D'you really wanna hear what I have to say or are you just gonna interrupt me?"

"Sorry, sorry," he said, waving his hands in front of his face. He was using his calm, 'reasonable dad' voice, which was always very annoying. "Continue."

"Mashirao got stuck in the ice and couldn't move. At first it was just me and Shouto, but then his partner showed up so it was two-on-one," I said, launching into my explanation. My father watched me carefully, spooning soup into his mouth. "And that Mezo guy is no joke, he's got eight arms and they're all crazy strong!"

"Don't make excuses, just explain," I frowned, my annoyance increasing.

I snatched my bowl of soup back into my hands from the coffee table, pitifully spooning soup into my mouth as I spoke. My voice came out slightly garbled through the brothy rice and ginger mixture.

"I panicked and I used the pillars that supported the building as a shield." I continued. I heard a _tsk_ noise from my father, which I blatantly ignored. "I know I shouldn't have. Then we ran outta time, and the building started to shake. I told them to just go, I figured Recovery Girl could just help me later and I couldn't walk while holding it up, it took too much effort. But Shouto carried me out, and I just focussed on holding it together until we were back outside."

My father nodded, slowly, placing his now empty bowl on the coffee table. He looked thoughtful, though I had trouble figuring out why. His eyes were fixed on the picture frame by the television, which housed one of the only pictures of my mother that I had ever seen. Her blue eyes- blue like mine- stared back at him, and I wondered silently what he was thinking about as he stared at her cherub-like face, locked forever behind the picture frame glass.

"I see…" he said at length, finally coming out of his trance-like state. "Well, I hope you didn't like him." my father said, his tone light. I arched an eyebrow questioningly. "That Todoroki kid," he clarified; I flushed crimson. "You threw up all over him, he had to leave early to change clothes."

"Excellent," I replied bitterly, my tongue still burning. "People sometimes get together after embarrassing stuff like that, though, right? Not that I liked him or anything!" My father was chuckling silently next to me, which only served to make me more flustered. "I don't!"

"Alright, alright." he assured me, using a calm tone of voice to keep me from getting any more riled up. "You haven't suffered this kind of heat damage in a while, so I was curious." He picked up his empty bowl and my own, standing up while he talked. "Please be more careful next time. That kind of heat stress could kill you."

My father walked back into the kitchen, bowls clinking together, the sound of running water as he did the dishes. I watched him carefully, fully aware that he was being withholding. His voice traveled back to me from his place by the sink.

"If you would just think a little before rushing in, and using the methods we work on together at home, this wouldn't happen." I arched an eyebrow, reaching for an old glass of water that sat on the coffee table in front of me.

"I know." I replied, feeling guilty. "I wasn't thinking."

"Just do what you know how to do, and you can easily best all those kids without breaking a sweat." he continued. A subtle pride laced his voice, but I decided it was best not to mention it. "I don't train you the way I do for the hell of it. Hakkeshou ***** works well with your Quirk- you'll do your best if you use it."

"Yes, sir…" I mumbled, feeling bitter. It was true that I performed better if I coupled my Quirk with a fighting style like Kenpo, but I often found it tricky to perform on the spot, in the field, when a real fight was actually happening.

My eyes moved away from the kitchen, back towards the picture of my mother. I had never noticed it before, but I was suddenly startlingly aware of a bend in the upper corner of the picture. It was small, something that I would not have noticed had I not been staring. My eyes traveled back to the kitchen.

More than likely, it was something I _should not_ have noticed.

* * *

The following morning campus was in an uproar. Or, rather, the area just outside of campus was in an uproar. The news of the recent hiring of All Might had clearly spread, as expected, and various groups of media outlets had been standing outside of the gates in a tizzy, a herd of story-hungry beasts clawing at the UA barrier. My brows twitched just thinking about it; they had no shame, and worse than that they just refused to take a hint.

My father took his place at his desk in the front of the classroom, a stack of papers held carefully in his left hand. He looked more tired than usual, though he looked his prescribed amount of annoyed. He let out a sigh, glancing up at the class from his desk.

"Hope you're rested from yesterday's battle trial," he began, his voice sounding, if possible, more tired than he looked. "I took the liberty of looking at your marks and evaluation." I withheld a giggle as a collective note of surprise and anxiety issued from the class. "Bakugo," my father began, sharp black eyes falling on the angriest blonde in the whole world. His body noticeably jolted at the mention of his name. "Stop acting like a seven-year-old. You're wasting your own talent."

"I know…" Katsuki admitted darkly, much to my surprise. He did not look pleased about it, though. Ignoring Katsuki's obvious discontent, my father barreled on.

"And you," he said, eyes now turning to Izuku, who jumped in his seat more than Katsuki had. My expression softened; I felt kind of bad. "Do you always plan on destroying your arm, Midoriya?" I closed my eyes, not particularly caring to see the pained expression on Izuku's face anymore. "If you keep going _I can't adjust my Quirk so I have no choice_ , then you'll never get terribly far. I've said it before. Don't make me say it a third time. Once you've cleared that hurdle, you'll be much more flexible, so I need to see some sweat out of you, Midoriya."

"Yes sir!" Izuku replied eagerly. My father showed little regard for his politeness or eagerness.

"Now, let's get on with homeroom notices…" he continued, shifting through some papers on his desk. A few of my classmates exchanged glances, and I heard Ashido Mina whisper 'pop test?' fearfully. "I'm sorry to have sprung this on you all, but we need to choose a class president."

"Finally, something school-like!" exclaimed Kaminari Denki, a blonde boy with an electrifying Quirk. My father did not look at all amused.

"Ooh! I wanna be class president!" Kirishima Eijiro shouted from his desk. My father's face fell as more and more students joined in the chorus, shouting the dreams of presidency from their desks all at once.

"That's like a leader position!" Mina said excitedly. "I'll do it- Me! Me!"

"Oh, you mean the position that exists for me." Aoyama Yuga bore a smug expression as if he were calmly stating a fact. My eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

"My manifesto as president: all girls must expose thirty centimeters of thigh!"

My twitching eyebrows transformed into a full-blown glower, my outraged blue eyes coming to rest on Mineta, who was jumping up and down and shouting. I pursed my lips, moving my index finger on my desk in a flicking motion; simultaneously, Mineta's desk (which was mostly metal) shifted beneath him. He fell to the floor with a splat. Izuku and Ochaco looked from Mineta, spread-eagle on the floor, and then over to me suspiciously. I smiled innocently, and Tenya rolled his eyes.

"I wanna do it, too." Jiro Kyoka's expression did not change as she said this. She was by far the least enthusiastic of the bunch.

It was only then that I realized that Katsuki was also raising his hand, as well as Izuku, though I had not noticed when we initially made eye contact. I knew full well that neither I nor Katsuki would get this position, though for very different reasons. I was the daughter of the homeroom teacher, and thus I felt appropriately uncomfortable about volunteering myself. Katsuki, on the other hand, was downright inept, not to mention borderline insane.

"Be quiet!"

Tenya's yell cut through the onslaught of demands that had gushed forth from my classmates. They blanched, exchanging worried glances, immediately realizing their mistake. My father's mouth was pressed into a firm line, his bloodshot eyes regarding my classmates with obvious contempt, though he nodded at Tenya, deciding to let him speak.

"This is a task laden with responsibility where you must carry and pull everyone else's weight!" Tenya began, his voice low, as if this were the most dire situation ever. I rolled my eyes, though I was also smiling; Tenya's intensity was as endearing as it was ridiculous. "Just because you'd like to do it doesn't mean you can! It is a holy office that requires the great esteem and trust of those around you! The only truly worthy leader will emerge from a democratic choice reflecting the will of the people. That's why this must be settled by a vote!"

"Ain't he bein' a little lofty with that proposal?" Sero Hanta, a boy with a tape Quirk, chided from the middle of the room.

"We haven't even know each other long enough to gain trust in one another," Tsuyu ribbited from her desk.

"No, I agree with Tenya." I said, at last speaking up. Tenya smiled with relief; I felt Katsuki glaring at me. "Since we're all still strangers, a person who manages to pull multiple votes is clearly the person who's most appropriate." I explained. A few people nodded in agreement, while others exchanged glances as though I were an idiot. "Is it alright to do this with a vote, Aizawa-sensei?"

"Do what you want." my father replied. I realized with faint embarrassment that he was now nestled in his orange sleeping bag. "Just so long as you decide by the deadline."

And with that, voting is how we came to decide upon our class president and vice president. As per typical class elections, people wrote names on sheets of paper, slipping them into a box on my father's desk; my father was asleep on the floor, waiting for us to finish. A faint _oof!_ escaped his lips as I left the desk after entering my own ballot, purposely trodding and pulling on the ends of his hair that escaped his sleeping bag.

The results of the election, however, were not as I had expected. Izuku, unsurprisingly, got four votes- the most in the class. This part of the results were unsurprising to me; Izuku was kind, likeable, strong, and always smiling. It did not shock me that he had been chosen, especially since he also had the most friends in the class, all of which I assumed had voted for him (myself included). However, as I regarded the results, scrawled in chalk on the blackboard, my eyes widened as they fell on my name.

"Ew," I muttered finally over Katsuki's demands to know who voted for Izuku; Ochaco was whistling rather guiltily.

I was standing next to Tenya, who looked utterly heartbroken. "Does this mean I have to do stuff?" I asked him, pointing at the blackboard. Tenya turned and looked at me, appalled by my lack of eagerness. "You could've voted for yourself, y'know!" I scolded. Tenya hung his head.

"I-I know…" he murmured darkly, hands on his desk. "Zero votes… That's alright… I insisted that the role was sacred…"

"You can have my spot, if you want," I offered, my tone breezy.

"Absolutely not!" Tenya replied, pushing me up to the front of the classroom to take my place next to Izuku. Izuku looked as nervous as I was annoyed. "These are the results of the vote, Aizawa-sensei!"

"So, then, it's president Midoriya Izuku and vice president A-" My father stopped talking, a frown contorting his features briefly before continuing. "Vice president Daichi." The class looked confused, but said nothing.

"D-D-Daichi-chan," Izuku stammered from my right. I turned and looked at him, adjusting my gaze based on his height. "I've no clue what I'm doing…"

"That's fine, me either." I said lightly, patting him on the back. "Let's run this school year into the ground together!"

"Daichi!" he exclaimed fearfully. I laughed.

* * *

The cafeteria was packed to capacity during lunch time. The multitude of bodies pressing in on me from all sides made me rather anxious, not to mention sweaty, though I did my absolute best to ignore the feeling as I pressed through the crowd. I was making my way to our usual lunch table, though I was having a lot of trouble making it even several feet.

"Having some trouble?"

A calm voice jolted me out of my flustered state. I glanced to my right, realizing that none other than Todoroki Shouto was sitting at the table directly next to where I stood. His mismatched eyes regarded me coolly from his place at the table while a steaming bowl of rice sat in front of him, temporarily forgotten. He was alone.

"N-no, I just-"

"You can sit here if that's easier."

I paused; I had not been expecting that. My body stumbled slightly, someone behind me shoving past me in a hurry. I was not even close to the table where we normally sat, which made Shouto's offer more appealing, though I was having difficulty concealing my shock from his offer; my father's words rang in my head: _Well, I hope you didn't like him._

"Are you sure?"

"I don't care." he replied curtly, taking a bite of his rice. "Sit here or don't, it's not my concern."

"But you invited me." I reminded him. I couldn't exactly tell, but suddenly it seemed that his face was a bit red. "Doesn't that make it your concern, sort of?"

"Look, d'you want to sit here or not?" he muttered. "Quit making it weird."

He narrowed his eyes at me, and I noticed suddenly how brilliantly his blue eye stood out against the scar on his face. I sat down quietly, across from him, picking up my own bowl and beginning to eat, gingerly picking at the rice in my bowl with my chopsticks, pretending all the while that I wasn't staring at him from behind my bowl.

"So, you're feeling better?"

Shouto's voice came out of nowhere, almost shocking me into dropping the rice that was in my mouth. I put down my bowl, meeting his gaze across the table. He was looking at me with an expression that I didn't fully understand.

"Yeah," I replied. "Thanks again, for helping me." He raised an eyebrow incredulously; I sighed. "And I'm sorry for throwing up on you,"

"Apology accepted." he said quietly. It almost seemed as though he were laughing a little bit, but I assured myself that it wasn't possible. Todoroki Shouto would never be so casual and gentle with me, I was sure. "Do you always get overheated like that when you use your Quirk?"

"It's happened before." I said while I returned to my rice. "It used to happen a lot when I was younger. Now I guess it just happens if I use it too much."

"So that's why your costume is made of wicking material." Shouto murmured.

It was not a question; unlike Katsuki, Shouto paid close attention to his comrades. I opened my mouth, making to reply, but I was cut off by a very sudden, very loud wailing noise. The students filling the cafeteria froze, shock painting their faces, the blare of the siren overpowering the normal lunch rush babble before ceasing it altogether. Shouto and I exchanged glances over bowls of rice, and his expression flickered as he noticed that I looked quite scared; I knew from years of living on campus that the UA sirens were not prone to faults, and they didn't sound often.

" _Security level three has been breached,"_ the disembodied voice of the alarm declared. The students had begun to move, and I suddenly realized that a stampede had formed; the students were panicking, and I had to admit, I understood why. _"Students, please promptly evacuate."_

"Security level three?" Shouto asked, glancing around as students began sprinting out of the cafeteria. "Any idea what's going on?"

"Level three means that someone's infiltrated school grounds." I replied darkly, glowering up at the students passing me as one knocked into my shoulder rather roughly. "But I've never heard of this happening before. UA is known for its security measures,"

"I guess we should go, then." Shouto muttered.

Glancing at the door, it did not seem likely that we would get through it any time soon. With the cafeteria now considerably less packed, I grabbed Shouto's arm and dragged him easily across the room towards the windows on the opposite side. I threw one open, stretching my arm out of the window, flexing my fingers in time to the alarm; I felt my body temperature spike.

"Hey- what're you-"

Shouto stopped talking when a giant chunk of dirt stopped just outside of the window. I lowered my arm, clambering out of the window and onto the rock, being very careful not to get to close to the edge. I reached out my arm to Shouto, who was looking at me as though I were crazy.

"Come on, get on," I insisted, motioning with my other arm for him to follow me. His expression was incredulous as he put his hand in mine; I was overwhelmed by the sudden realization that what we were doing looked very lame.

Amidst the blare of the sirens the two of us drifted through the air towards the ground, the various floors of our high school zipping past us with a _woosh!_ as we sped through the air. Shouto wore a bored expression as he crouched on the dirt behind me, watching apathetically as we descended to the sidewalk that lead to the front of the school.

I glanced over my shoulder as I let the pile of dirt fall lifelessly to the concrete on which we now stood. The red glare of police sirens could be seen from just beyond the front gates to the school, which I suddenly realized had been turned into a pile of rubble; I felt my heart skip, and fear churned in the pit of my stomach. What could have done that to the school gates?

"We should get back inside…" Shouto muttered.

The sirens had stopped, but I ignored his words, my eyes now fixated on a shadow several yards away from me. Something about it seemed unnatural, and its presence did nothing to improve the nervousness that I felt welling up inside of me. I turned to Shouto, who was watching me quizzically from his place on the sidewalk.

"Do you see that?" I asked quietly, pointing towards the corner of the building where I had seen it. Shouto raised an eyebrow, glanced over my shoulder, and then looked back at me.

"I have no clue what you're talking about." he said at last, putting his hands deep into his pockets and turning his back on me. "Let's get inside. You're starting to hallucinate."

I followed him reluctantly, trotting on his heels, though I kept my eyes trained on the space where I had seen the shadow. Something about it had seemed oddly familiar, though I couldn't quite place it. I thrust my worries into the back of my mind, accepting that there was very little that I could do about it at present. With the sirens turned off and the situation apparently 'under control', our day ended more quickly than I had anticipated. Izuku resigned his seat as class president over to Tenya, who accepted with a thank you and a bow. Izuku was teary eyed throughout the whole ordeal, as per usual.

The class chattered excitedly amongst themselves; I heard talk of Tenya's valiant performance during the emergency situation during lunch from Denki and Eijiro, who congratulated Tenya enthusiastically. My father was curled up in his sleeping bag, as usual, sipping on a pouch of applesauce and looking more like a pouting child than a professional hero.

As I watched my classmates chatter with one another, I felt that same anxious feeling make itself known again, twisting my stomach into knots. I reached into my pocket where I sat at my desk, my classmates' voices becoming background noise as I slowly pulled out a small slip of paper.

It was old, the worn paper soft and wrinkled in my fingers; a tattered newspaper clipping, which had been tucked neatly within the frame that held me and my father's precious photo of my mother. The slip of paper, which now had my full attention, read:

 **VILLAIN DA-TENSHI DEFEATED BY NO. 1 HERO ALL MIGHT! PRO HERO SHIGARAKI IZANAMI STILL M.I.A.**

I narrowed my eyes as they raked over the text, the bold font still startlingly fresh despite the age of the clipping. I glanced up, my gaze now falling on my father, who was watching Tenya bow proudly to the class as he accepted his new position as class president. I narrowed my eyes, the anxiousness in my stomach transforming into a ball of nervousness, which stuck in my throat. Why had my father saved this clipping and left it behind that picture of my mother for all of these years?

He was hiding something.

* * *

 **Congee: a type of rice porridge eaten in many asian countries.**

 **Hakkeshou: the Japanese term for Baghuazhang, which is a form of Chinese martial arts based in Taoist principles. Some common aspects are circle walking and a wide variety of strikes and evasive footwork. Practitioners are known for their ability to flow in battle. The term Baghuazhang literally means Eight Trigram Palm, and is the basis of the Hyuga clan's technique in Naruto as well as many fighting styles featured in Avatar: The Last Airbender.**


	5. Malice

" _Be the hero everyone needs, whether it's a flood or any other disaster."_

* * *

The time was seven o'clock in the evening.

My father and I had been training for what seemed like an eternity; he had seemed rather on edge since the incident with the level three security breach earlier that day. His dark eyes watched me carefully as I performed a fairly normal routine: lifting up rocks one by one, each one getting progressively larger as I continued down the line. My father had always been a firm believer in 'the basics'. Though I found it annoying, I could never bring myself to say that it his faith in foundational teachings was misplaced.

I breathed in and out, becoming extremely conscious of my breathing as I began to tackle the larger rocks. A loud breath out, a long one in; my body temperature felt fairly normal to me. As my father had always scolded me, if I could just become more conscious of my body and its link to my Quirk, I could one day learn to avoid the heat stress that had plagued me since my younger days.

"Good…" my father mused. He was standing across from me, arms folded. "Very good."

I dropped the final rock to the ground; it was a circle of concrete that my father had commissioned from Cementoss specifically for training, and was about as large as a king sized bed.

"What next?" I asked through a yawn as I stretched my arms out behind my back.

My father's response was to reach for his grey scarf, which he always wore wrapped around his neck. I was taken aback, casting a confused glance in his direction, lifting my arms apprehensively. He smiled, chuckling to himself softly as he noticed my nervousness.

"Don't worry," he muttered, smiling. "Just a little practice." I paused, glancing at the setting sun and considering the situation for a moment before speaking.

"Papa?"

"Hm?"

"Papa, if I'm able to strike you- just once- I'd like to ask you a question." I declared firmly. My father looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow.

"You can ask me a question any time, Daichi." was his bored reply. I pursed my lips.

"No, papa," I said, careful to keep my tone firm but calm. "I want to ask you a question, and I want you to give me a straight and truthful answer."

"What-?"

"Can you do that?" I interrupted him. My blue eyes sought his desperately, trying to gauge his mood, his thoughts, anything. "Do I have your word?"

My father took in a deep breath of air, his eyes never leaving mine. I could not tell if he was smiling at me with fondness or bitterness; I told myself that perhaps it was a little bit of both.

"As you like." he said at last. He brushed back his hair out of his eyes and put on his goggles. "I'll only use my Quirk if I think you're getting out of hand. Otherwise, I'll only be using hand-to-hand." I nodded, my body stiffening in anticipation. "You know what I'm expecting of you?"

"Yes, sir," I muttered, my gaze hardening. "I'll be fighting using the Hakkeshou we've worked on."

"Very good." my father replied, a smile tugging at his lips. "You've got to land a hit, though." I pouted. "Those were your terms."

I straightened my back, my arms outstretched, staggered one above the other. I held my palms rigidly, one directly in front of my face, the other facing me at arm's length. I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling my core temperature spike just a bit; I let out a breath of air, and I felt a calm sort of coolness settle in me.

"Get ready," my father said. I nodded. "Here I come!"

In a flash my father had sprinted to my right, the ends of his scarf held in either hand. I knew from watching him fight for years and from practicing with him that when he could not use his Quirk, his goal was to get close enough to wrap that scarf around me tightly; he would then use it either to incapacitate me, or to throw me into the ground. I took a deep breath, feeling him closing in on me.

I stepped lightly in a semicircle, my back and arms still rigid. With each step I took I picked up small flecks of earth, which followed in my wake while I walked. I picked up my pace, parrying around my father in larger and larger crescents, careful to keep my footwork light. Hakkeshou was delicate, controlled, yet flowed very well- I could not deny my father's conclusion that it was perfect to use with my Quirk.

"Too slow!"

My father's voice caught my attention. I glanced to my right, noticing that he had at last closed in on me. I smirked- he wasn't paying close enough attention. I lifted one hand, palm stiff, parrying back just a few steps while continuing to follow the pattern of a crescent. My father's scarf whipped towards me, making to grab my arm. The scarf was met with a shield of rock, which was now completely adept at following my movements; my father and I had realized long ago that the longer I held something under my control, the closer it came to being completely in time with my movements or desires.

My father attempted to strike again, which I blocked yet again with a soft movement from my other arm. He tried striking me several more times, both with his hands and his scarf, but each time I simply parried backwards slightly in a crescent, moved my arms very carefully, and his strike was met with a hard shell of sand.

He spun, swivelling on his heel quickly. Before I could blink he was no longer in front of me, but was instead at my side. I let out a long breath, reminding myself to keep my mind clear and to do as my father had said: focus on what he had taught me. I ducked low, dodging one end of his scarf; my knees cracked slightly as I squatted down as low as I could go, my arms now outstretched on either side of me with my palms facing upward.

I twitched my fingers, several rocks following my motion. They rose off the ground one by one, following each other in an arch before catching onto my father's scarf. A low grunt escaped his throat as they pulled him away from me, and I used the brief break in his concentration to turn on my tiptoes and rise back up again, returning to my original stance.

"I'm going to come at you for real now, papa." I said sternly. My father just chuckled, wiping a smudge of dirt off of his cheek. "Sorry if you're sore tomorrow."

"Bring it on, kiddo."

I swiveled in place, lifting up one foot at the same time, bringing it around from behind me in a circular motion. The pad of my bare foot scraped against the dirt, the earth beneath me following my motion and carrying it out in front of me. My father dodged the raised line of dirt headed for him, parrying to his right, which I had anticipated; with a careful flick of my wrist a large pillar of earth sprang up on his side. He grunted- louder this time- as he fell into it, hitting his head on it rather roughly.

He came at me quickly, then, pushing against the barrier of dirt I had built to increase his own momentum. I spun, my arms flowing and collecting loose pebbles and sand as I twirled across the ground. My father aimed a deliberate punch to my gut; I blocked him with a rock covered arm, pushing him away and twisting my body at the same time, harnessing the energy I had used to block his blow to push me away from his front and to his side.

I crouched low, bringing my foot around in front of me to swipe at his feet. My father jumped up, attempting to dodge my move to trip him- too bad for him, I had meant for him to dodge it. With a quick flick of my wrist, which was now free of the rocks that I had been previously using for armor, I brought a large sphere of dirt crashing into his stomach, sending him careening backwards.

"You left yourself open, papa," I remarked with a smirk, feeling more confident now.

I dropped my arm and spun again, and as I turned back around to face my father I brought out my other hand, fingers stiff and outstretched. Four long cylinders of rock lept out of the ground, following the direction in which my fingers were pointing: straight at Eraserhead.

My father dodged the first quickly, then the second; by the third he had slowed down ever so slightly, and with a drag of my toe in the sand- maintaining my circular pattern- I brought forth a line of raised dirt, which caught his feet. My father stumbled, the tip of his foot caught in the earth beneath him. I flicked my fingers, bringing the fourth and last cylinder of earth crashing straight into him.

He went flying, catching several feet of air before diving back towards the earth. I twisted my body, feet dancing in circles, my hands moving similarly; the chunk of cement I had be lifting earlier came to meet him, catching him in the back and sending him soaring back in my direction. I lifted my arms, pulling my hands in towards my chest and crouching down ever so slightly; the platter of cement slid gracefully to the ground as it mimicked my body's movements.

I straightened up, dropping my hands to my side, my eyes meeting my father's. He was lying on his back on top of the cement, which had come to a rest at my feet. I lifted a single foot, placing it gently on his chest.

"Got you."

My father laughed, pushing my foot off of his chest. He stood, dusting off the footprint my bare foot had left on his chest and readjusting his scarf around his neck. His dark eyes regarded me fondly as he rumpled his hair back into its 'casual' look, and he smiled.

"You got me." he said at last, reiterating my words. He patted me on the head, ruffling my hair. "I'm surprised- you actually listened to me, for once."

"Ha, ha," I replied huffily, turning my nose up at him. "Don't be a sore loser, papa."

"Yes, yes." he said airily, waving his hand lightly. "You got a hit on me, so I'll answer your question." I gave him a stern glare. "Straight _and_ truthful- got it."

I paused, then, mulling over my next move very carefully. There were many things that I wanted to ask my father: what was it about my Quirk that made him so suspicious? Who had he been talking to Recovery Girl about? Why had he been hiding a very old newspaper clipping behind my mother's picture? After several minutes of silence, I took a deep breath, and spoke up.

"I'd like for you to tell me about my mother."

My father blinked, his expression confused. He crouched down, resting his arms across his knees. He stared up at me from that position, his gaze thoughtful, but still just as guarded as always. I felt my heart sink; I knew that he was not going to keep his promise. Aizawa Shouta was not going to be completely truthful.

"What would you like to know about her?" he whispered slowly from his position in front of me. I glanced down, my blue eyes slightly watery. My father pursed his lips. "Just ask. I'll do my best to answer you."

"What was she like?" I said at last, my words coming out breathless, choking. I felt like an idiot. "What did people think about her? What did you think about her?"

"Daichi-"

"What did she do in life? What did she like? What didn't she like?" I barreled on, the thousands of questions I had kept bottled up inside of me at last spilling over, forcing their way past my lips. "Was she a hero, like you? Was she a good one? What-"

"Hey." My father's firm tone broke my wordy rampage, and I choked to a halt. I blinked, my eyes still feeling wet; my cheeks felt wet, too. "Let's take it one thing at a time… Your first question: what was she like?" I nodded. My father smiled.

"Your mother was one of the most amazing people I have ever met." he began slowly. His tone was strange, one that I had not heard before from him; it sounded a little watery. "We met doing hero work, naturally. She was ten years my senior-"

"Ten years?!" I exclaimed, cutting into his answer. He frowned and put a hand on top of my head roughly.

"I thought you wanted a straight and honest answer?" he said curtly.

"I did! I do!" I squeaked. "I just wasn't expecting-"

"Age is just a number."

"I know, but-"

"But what?"

"Mom… Mom was…" I muttered, casting my eyes downward. "Mom was a total cougar."

This caused my father to burst into laughter, a smile stretching across his face. I did not see such smiles often from him, and I wondered vaguely if it hurt his face to smile so widely.

"That may be true," he said, still laughing. "I was young- I hadn't been a hero for that long. But we worked well together… You might say I was infatuated with her." I flushed crimson, partly from his words, partly from the expression on his face. "The whole relationship was rushed and sort of half-assed when I look back on it, now. But the aftermath of it all, I think, was well worth it." he said, his black eyes now falling on me again; he had been staring at the sky.

"So mom was a hero, too?" I breathed, a smile tugging at my lips as I realized my father was gazing at me with the kindest expression that I had ever seen.

"Yes." he said gruffly. His voice sounded like it was cracking. "Your mother's talents lent themselves to rescue and recovery- a lot like Mr. Thirteen here at UA."

"Did she have a Quirk like Mr. Thirteen's?"

"No, your mother's Quirk was a bit of a mystery for a long time." my father said, standing back up again. He held out a hand to me. "Walk-and-talk." he clarified, shaking his hand slightly.

It felt rather childish, holding his hand at my age, but he didn't seem to mind it at all, so I pushed the embarrassment to the back of my mind.

"A mystery?" I repeated, urging for him to continue. He nodded.

"Your mother's speciality was healing- that's why she often worked in the rescue and recovery area." he explained. The sand crunched beneath our feet as we walked. "Her hero alias was Heaven's Gate. For a long time we assumed that it was a power similar to Recovery Girl's, but we discovered later on that it was very unique."

"How's that?"

"Recovery Girl's Quirk works by stimulating the body's natural healing process to heal you- that's why you're always so tired after." he said as we passed the front gate to UA. It had been repaired since the damage earlier that day. "Your mother's Quirk worked… Well, it'll take to long to really explain, so I'll just say this: in the hero world her Quirk was often referred to as the _What If_ Quirk."

" _What if?_ " I asked, blinking up at him quizzically. He nodded.

"Essentially, it's a warp Quirk," he explained. "Definitely not a warp Quirk like most people are familiar with, though. Most of us chalked it up to being a mutation."

"I don't get it." I stated blandly, my face contorted as I attempted to piece together what he had said to me. "Why's it called that? The _What If_ Quirk..."

"The stipulations you set was for one question only." my father said, looking down at me.

We had stopped walking, and I suddenly realized that we were back at our house. I frowned, releasing my father's hand and crossing my arms over my chest. He chuckled, searching in his pockets for the keys to the front door; I held out my own set, knowing he would never find his own even if it was to save his own skin.

"I'll give you these if you answer one more question." I taunted, jangling the keys in front of him in a boasting manner. My father smirked, hands crossed over his chest.

"If you play that way, you'll never get inside, either." I frowned deeply. I hated it when he was right.

"Fine."

* * *

It was twelve fifty in the afternoon.

The weather was hot, and so my mood was already being drastically affected by my own bodily discomfort; it felt as though I were swimming in a vat of my own sweat. Quite frankly, I was becoming more and more surprised that my very essence had not devolved into being only sweat by that point. I sat in my seat, grumbling to myself, my shirt unbuttoned to what was probably an inappropriate point.

"Daichi-chan?" Ochaco whispered from the desk beside me. She and Izuku were looking at me worriedly while I fanned myself with a notebook. Tenya looked mildly disgusted, but at that point, you couldn't have paid me to care. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I don't do well in the heat," I sighed heavily. My breath had a slight cooling effect as it exited my mouth, so I did it a few more times. Tenya looked even more annoyed.

"Daichi-kun, none of us are loving the weather, but, please," Tenya began haughtily, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Try and behave a little more appropriately."

The glower I shot him was the most powerful look of anger that I could conjure in that moment. My face twitched with the effort, and I heard my teeth grit together in the back of my mouth. Tenya looked wholly affronted, though Ochaco's giggle from my side told me I looked more goofy than threatening.

"I. Don't. Do. Heat." I bit back through clenched teeth. I felt sweat drip down my back as well as down the front of my chest; this had to be the grossest I had ever felt.

"Alright, alright." Tenya assured me, finally letting me have my peace and turning to face the front.

I put my head on my desk, my cheek pressing against the cool desktop. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I felt my body begin to cool down. The classrooms, unlike the halls and cafeteria, were air conditioned, though it was taking my body much too long to adjust to the change in temperature.

"Alright," My father's voice cut through the chatter of my classmates, who settled down immediately. They had learned quickly not to annoy my father too much. "For the foundational skill of heroics we'll study today, it was decided that you'll be supervised by a three-man team, comprised of myself, All Might, and someone else."

"Sensei!" yelled Hanta from the middle of the room. "What'll we be doing?"

"I was getting to that."

"He was getting to that."

My father and I spoke in unison, the two of us making and breaking eye contact in a flash once we realized what had happened. Izuku and Ochaco exchanged glances, Ochaco subduing a giggle.

"Weird." Katsuki growled bluntly.

"Quiet, you." my father replied in a huff. "Anyways… Today's hero foundation will be the trial of rescue." My father brandished a red and yellow sign in his fingers, which read 'RESCUE', though he did so in a much less flashy manner than All Might had for our trial of battle.

"The trial of rescue?" Denki muttered in front of us. He shot Mina a sassy look. "Sounds a bit difficult this time around."

"Totally!" Mina replied excitedly. Denki looked a little put out that she hadn't reciprocated his flirting.

"C'mon, dumbass, that's what a hero's whole job is!" Eijiro butted in. "I'm chomping at the bit!"

"If it's a flood then that environment's my speciality," Tsuyu croaked from a few desks up. I let out a moan.

"I hope to Kami it's a flood!" I exclaimed dramatically as I flopped around on my desk. Tenya rolled his eyes while Ochaco continued her trend of giggling at me. "Then maybe I can finally cool the hell off!"

"Watch your language." my father said bluntly from the front of the class. I frowned.

"Didn't Kirishima just call Kaminari and dumbass?" I replied sourly. "Where's their scolding?"

"C'mon, Daichi, don't be a tattle tale!" Eijiro called back to me. My frown deepened.

"All of you, don't get ahead of yourselves." my father continued, ignoring my and Eijiro's brief tiff.

"As I was saying, this time, it's entirely up to each of you whether or not you wear your costume. Some of your costumes probably aren't adapted to the task at hand, after all." As he spoke the drawers contained in the far wall opened, revealing our training gear. "The training area is fairly far away, so we'll go there by bus. That's all, go get prepared."

* * *

Ochaco and I walked side by side, Izuku bringing up the rear of our little group. Ochaco was humming to herself excitedly, almost skipping with enthusiasm. I puttered along next to her, considerably less enthused, feeling mildly self conscious after having to don my hero costume for a second time.

"How come you're in your gym clothes, Deku?" Ochaco asked nonchalantly. Izuku flushed, sputtering in his haste to answer her.

"Well, they got really tattered in the battle trials." he explained. Up ahead of us I noticed Katsuki grow noticeably stiff with awkwardness, and perhaps a touch of annoyance. "The repairs are already being handled by the support company- I'm just waiting!"

"So has Deku been reappropriated now?" I asked as we approached the bus that was to take us to the training grounds. "Wasn't that Katsuki's mean nickname for you?"

"I kinda like it!" Ochaco chortled. "It's kinda cute!" Izuku's face turned three shades of red darker.

"Why did he call you that, anyways?" I asked, my eyes fixed on Katsuki's back. "When I asked him he said it was because you were a 'Quirkless loser'," I twitched my fingers in the air beside my head to make air quotations as I spoke. "But you clearly have one. What's up?"

Izuku looked obviously nervous; he began messing with the mask that he wore around his neck. He was still blushing, a brilliant crimson, avoiding eye contact with both Ochaco and myself. He gave me no answer, save for some nonsensical mutterings under his breath. I made to restate my question, but was cut off my Tenya's commanding voice over the crowd of students ahead of us.

"In order to get everyone seated smoothly on the bus, please divide into two lines according to your numbers!"

I arched an eyebrow as Izuku muttered something that sounded like 'full throttle' to Ochaco.

"Tenya!" I shouted as he began to direct people into their respective lines. He paused, looking me dead in the eyes. "Tenya, it's not that kind of bus." I said, gesturing towards the vehicle. "It's a waste of time to put them all in lines." Tenya blushed slightly, looking rather embarrassed.

"Thank you, vice president Daichi!" he said as he began ushering people onto the bus. "I appreciate your candidness!"

"Please, don't call me that…" I mumbled.

Ochaco and I took seats side by side, across from Izuku, Tenya, and Tsuyu. Katsuki skulked towards the back of the bus, appearing to be extremely grumpy. I settled into my seat, deciding to get comfortable for the ride; a sudden motion on my other side alerted me that another person had sat down beside me.

"Hello again, iinchou *****."

An _eep!_ of surprise escaped my lips in spite of all of my efforts. My eyes had come to rest on Shouto, who had taken the empty seat beside of me. I felt my chest tighten in the strangest way; it was a mixture of a warmth, a flutter, and difficult breathing. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw my father get onto the bus, his eyes falling on us briefly before sitting down. He did not look thrilled.

"Don't call me that!" I blurted. I knew I sounded startled, which only served to embarrass me further; I felt my cheeks heat up.

"Why?" he asked nonchalantly. "I voted for you, so I may as well call you that." I arched an eyebrow, puzzled.

"Why the hell would you go and do that?" I asked through pursed lips. Shouto shrugged, seeming completely nonplussed.

"Felt right, I guess." he replied easily. "You're strong and smart…" Now my whole body felt hot, and I mentally yelled at myself inside of my head- could I act like any more of an idiot? "... and you know how UA works, _Aizawa Daichi_." Shouto whispered my name in my ear, and I realized with a jolt just how close he was to me.

"Hey, Midoriya," Tsuyu's voice broke me out of my trance; I realized to my horror that Shouto and I were nose-to-nose while Ashido Mina stared at us snidely from the other side of the bus. "I always say exactly what's on my mind."

"A-ah!" Izuku exclaimed as I pushed myself away from Shouto, giving him a glare that I was sure did not convey my frustration with him. "Hey Asui!"

"Call me Tsuyu." she demanded quickly before continuing. "Your Quirk reminds me of All Might's." That same nervous look- the very same he had worn when I had questioned him about Katsuki's nickname for him- returned to Izuku's face once again as he stammered out his reply.

"I-i-is that so?" he laughed. I raised an eyebrow incredulously, exchanging a glance with Ochaco; he looked strangely guilty of something. "But mine isn't like-"

"Wait up, Asui, All Might never gets hurt by his Quirk!" Eijiro chimed in from his place next to Tsuyu. "That's where the likeness ends!" Tsuyu nodded thoughtfully in agreement, giving Izuku the up-and-down before settle back into her seat. "I'm kinda jealous of that kind of simple enhancer-type Quirk, though! There's a lot you can do with one, and flashily, too!" Eijiro continued. Izuku listened dutifully from his place down the row from him; I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat. "My hardening power isn't bad for punch-ups, but I hate that it's just not that flashy."

"Well I think it's an awesome Quirk! Definitely a Quirk that'll be of great use to a pro!" Izuku remarked excitedly. Eijiro was hardening and un-hardening his skin in his seat, admiring his Quirk along with Izuku.

" _Pros_ huh~?" Mina sang from her seat. I opened my eyes, admiring her hero costume quite briefly; she looked like an alien princess from a science fiction movie. "But you know, heroics has a lot about it that's more like a popularity contest, too, right?"

"That's one of heroics' biggest bummers." I murmured, closing my eyes again. "That's the part of it that I kind of hate."

"My navel laser is both flashy and strong enough for the pro level." Aoyama Yuga bragged, ignoring my earlier comment.

"I agree with you." Shouto muttered from beside me as Mina teased Yuga about his stomach falling out. "My old man plays right into that game… It makes me sick."

Shouto's words came out bitter- angry, even. I cracked open my eyelids, peaking next to me to gauge his mood. His face was stony, his mouth set in a hard line as he glared at the floor of the bus. I wondered what his father was like very briefly; I, like Shouto, was also the child of a professional hero, though I had never gotten the feeling that my father cared much at all for publicity or popularity. He was in it for pure love of the game. I shifted my eyes, resting on my father's back. Despite his surliness, he was a really good hearted man.

"If we're talking the double whammy of flashy and strong, you can't not mention Bakugo and Todoroki!" Denki chimed in. I chuckled.

"If it's a popularity contest then Katsuki will definitely lose." I said snarkily. Despite my eyes being closed once again, I could picture the exact face that Katsuki was making. "He's got a foul mouth and a terrible temper, not to mention he's a chronic narcissist."

"Shut up you bitch! I'll be popular too!" he cried out, much too loudly for the small bus we were in. I chuckled darkly.

"See what I mean?"

"It's only been a brief while since our socialization has commenced and yet already we have been made apodictically cognizant of your personality, redolent as it is of a turd getting steamed in a sewer."

Denki's soliloquy made me burst into raucous laughter. I doubled over in my seat almost instantly, clutching my stomach to keep my ribs from hurting so badly. Shouto even let out a small laugh, though I was likely the only one who was close enough to hear it.

"Huh? What the hell kinda vocabulary is that?" Katsuki roared, enraged. Denki simply sneered, throwing his arms behind his head and leaning back in his seat. "I'll fuckin' kill you!"

On my other side, Ochaco had joined me in a chorus of uncontrollable laughter. The two of us stayed that way for some time, though I heard Yuga comment meekly on the vulgarity of the conversation.

"Damn, Katsuki," I said through mouthfuls of laughter. "You're one foul-mouthed dude!"

"You're one to talk, fuckin' moron! Like you'll be fuckin' popular with a bitchass Quirk like that!"

"Wasn't it you who went through all that trouble to come declare war on me while I was in the infirmary?" I replied, a wide sneer spreading across my face. Katsuki blanched as our classmates turned to look at him, some astonished, others looking snide. "If my Quirk's not all that then why'd you even bother?"

"Shut up you stupid-"

"Whoa, Bakugo, that's a heavy accusation!" Denki cried, cutting him off. He was also laughing, now.

"How embarrassing." said Yuga, putting a hand over his mouth as he joined the den of laughter that had erupted within the bus.

"We're almost there, so settle down."

My father's voice cut through the loud laughter that had completely consumed me and my classmates. We sobered up almost immediately, replying rigidly with a 'yes sir!' as our bus began to approach the training facility where we would be carrying out our rescue trial.

After filing off of the bus our group entered the building, which was really more like an enormous glass dome. It was an impressive feat of architecture, to be sure; I had always admired it as a young girl growing up on the UA campus. My father had even brought me here a few times in my earlier years to train. A collective sigh of amazement escaped my classmates as we entered the facility- their eyes were wide, glittering with fascination as they took in the view.

"Amazing!" exclaimed Ochaco from next to me. "Is this USJ ***** or something?!"

I laughed, patting her on the back before trotting to the top of the stairs, which lead down to the main part of the training facility. I breathed in deeply, feeling somewhat nostalgic. My father smiled at me discreetly from his place on the other side of the top of the stairs. Next to him, I realized we had been joined by none other than Thirteen (I had grown up calling him Mr. Thirteen); he looked rather squat next to my father, and his costume I had always thought made him appear like an adorable cartoon insect from outer space. I wondered, very briefly, if my mother had ever worked with Mr. Thirteen.

"Flood wrecks, landslides, fires... etcetera, etcetera." Mr. Thirteen said proudly, gesturing his hand towards the various arenas contained within the glass dome. "This is a practical training area I created to simulate all kinds of accidents and disasters, and its name is The Ultimate Space for Jams!"

"See, it really is the USJ, Ochaco," I hissed back at her, a smile crossing my face. She smiled back at me; I had a feeling I was, at last, getting the hang of smiling.

"It's Space Hero Thirteen!" Izuku exclaimed.

He and Ochaco exchanged excited smiles as Ochaco whispered that she had always loved Thirteen as a professional hero. My father wore a puzzled expression, glancing around the inside of the USJ before turning back towards Mr. Thirteen.

"Hey, Thirteen," he muttered as the rest of my classmates chattered amongst themselves, still admiring the USJ. "Where's All Might?"

"From what I was told-" Mr. Thirteen began, but paused when he noticed my eavesdropping.

Mr. Thirteen lowered his voice to barely a whisper, which I could no longer hear. My father nodded knowingly, though he looked slightly annoyed. The two broke apart a few minutes later, my father turning to face the class with Mr. Thirteen.

"Before we begin, just one thing…" Mr. Thirteen said, holding up a finger. "Or two... Or three... Or four…" He raised another finger each time he spoke, and I felt confused stares from my classmates. "I'm certain that you're all quite aware, but my Quirk is called 'Black Hole'. No matter what material may get sucked into my vortex, I'm afraid it will turn into dust."

"Now there's a Quirk that's perfect for rescuing people from a natural disaster!" exclaimed Izuku, an enthusiastic nod from Ochaco accompanying his outburst.

"Yes…" Mr. Thirteen replied, his tone now very serious. "It is, however, a power that could also easily be used to kill people. And in that way, it's no different from the Quirks of everyone here."

The class had gone silent. Izuku and Ochaco were staring at Mr. Thirteen emphatically, hanging on his every word. I had to admit, that in all my years of knowing Mr. Thirteen, I had always been awe struck by his ability to command a room with his passionate words; he, like my father, was a person who was in the game of heroics not for popularity, but purely for the good of others.

"Naturally, in this society of superhumans, Quirks are strictly regulated and the requirements for their lawful use enforced. We can tell at a glance that that is the makeup of our world. That being said, please don't forget that each of you possesses a Quirk that can go awry." I looked down at the ground, suddenly feeling self conscious.

"One wrong step is all it takes to be able to kill others accidentally. During Eraserhead's physical strength test, you learned of your respective power's true potential, and during All Might's trial of battle, I think you took away a true sense of the danger of brandishing those powers against one another."

I looked back up, feeling a jolt run through my body as I realized that Mr. Thirteen was looking at me very pointedly. I pursed my lips, feeling rather ashamed; was he disappointed in me?

"This lesson will serve as a fresh start! Let's get about to studying how to wield our Quirks for the sake of human life! Your Quirks emphatically do not exist to hurt others! Please leave this exercise having fully understood that your Quirks exist to help people!"

As Mr. Thirteen finished his speech he bowed very low, thanking us for having listened with such patience. I smiled, although I still felt slightly uncomfortable; if anything, I knew that Mr. Thirteen wanted the best for me, and did not want to see me make a misstep that would hurt myself, or others. I smiled at my father, though he wasn't paying me any attention, as Izuku and Ochaco congratulated Mr. Thirteen for his 'very cool' speech. My father cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the class.

"Now, first thing's first…" he muttered.

As he spoke, I suddenly felt something stir within the USJ. I peeked to my left, down the stairs, my eyes following the steps until they made it to the fountain that took up the space in the very center of Mr. Thirteen's facility. My eyes widened; a small sliver of blackness had appeared in front of it. I knew immediately that it did not belong there.

"Sensei." I said quickly, cutting my father off mid-sentence. He froze. "Aizawa-sensei, something's wrong."

My father turned, following my eyes towards the fountain. The blackness had grown bigger, and I suddenly felt very queasy; a hand was making its way out of the blackness. I felt sicker, still- it was _three_ hands, though I was having difficulty figuring out why there was a hand on this person's face.

"Everyone, huddle together, immediately!"

My father's shout jolted everyone out of their excited stupor, drawing their attention to the space that my father and I were staring at. Confused expressions clouded most of their features, and I felt them glance at each other for answers.

"What is that?" Eijiro said from behind my father. He had put his hand over his eyes, and was squinting towards the middle of the USJ. "Is this a simulation like the entrance exam?"

I looked to my father, and my heart sank when I noticed that he had pulled back his hair and pulled on his goggles. He was going to fight.

"Thirteen, protect the students!" he commanded, yanking on his scarf roughly. He moved closer to me, reaching out a hand and pushing me away from the edge of the stairs. "None of you move! Those are villains!"

I watched in wide-eyed horror as an enormous amount of villains emerged from the blackness, which had increased greatly in size. The person at the front, a young man probably several years older than us, was hunched over in a lazy manner. His purplish-grey hair was framing his face, which was covered with a fake hand. The queasiness in my stomach increased as I realized that we were about to encounter the very people that the heroes of the professional world did battle with. I glanced over my shoulder at the surprised, confused, and scared expressions of my classmates: we were not ready for this.

"Eraserhead and Thirteen…" A face had emerged from the blackness, and I realized suddenly that it was an individual with a warp Quirk; I had never encountered one before. "According to the teachers' curriculum we procured yesterday, All Might was supposed to be here, and yet…"

"I knew it…" my father muttered from in front of me. "So yesterday's disturbance was the doing of you louts…"

"Where is he…?" It was the hand-man who had spoken. I watched him carefully, realizing that he must be the leader of this ragtag band of villains. His voice was scratchy- very warped, tired sounding, as though he had been sick with a cold for his whole life. It sent shivers down my spine like nails down a chalkboard. "We went through all this trouble and rustled up so many of us to bring along. You can't tell me All Might... The symbol of peace... Isn't here…"

My body tensed as my father shifted, preparing to fight.

"I wonder if he'll show up if we kill the kids…?"

That was the last straw for my father. In a second he was gone, leaping down the stairs, scarf gripped tightly in both fists. My hand, which I had been gripping the back of his shirt with very tightly, felt empty and abandoned. I felt something sting my eyes, and I realized that I was on the verge of tears- I had never seen my father fight, not for real… Not when I didn't know if he was going to make it.

That was the moment that I realized that what we were about to face was something that could kill us. I watched my father land on his feet at the foot of the stairs, and I realized that this could end with one of us six feet under.

* * *

 ***iinchou: japanese term for class rep.**

 ***USJ: Universal Studios Japan.**

 **Thanks so much for all the reviews! Once again, I obviously don't own the original story or its characters. Please let me know what you think!**


	6. Pain

" _The symbol of peace… Must die."_

* * *

My mind was blank. Not the normal kind of blank, like a Buddhist monk Zen, or when you are taking a test where you come up completely empty for an answer no matter how hard you try; the sort of 'blank' that I was feeling at that moment was very different. It was as though an insurmountable number of things were running through my mind at once, so much so that they canceled each other out before I could latch onto even a single thought.

It was information overload.

"V-villains?" Eijiro's voice warbled across my mind, though I paid him very little attention. "Get out of here- like villains can just waltz onto the UA campus!"

"What about the alarm sensors?" I heard Izuku ask Mr. Thirteen.

"Of course we have some set, but something must've overridden that…"

Mr. Thirteen mumbled between glances down to where my father was fighting. Dull thuds met my ears every time he landed a punch.

"That blackness…" I said, at last managing to choke words past my lips, which suddenly felt very dry. "I think there's one among them with a warp Quirk."

"That's unfortunate," replied Mr. Thirteen. He cast his eyes in the direction of my father, who was still going at it with the villains. A loud grunt met my ears as he sent one flying with his scarf.

"They picked this time and place on purpose," I murmured.

At last I had turned to face the class, though I was still feeling very sick. My eyes prickled, hot tears threatening to spill over at any moment. I was sweating quite a lot, it almost felt like the cold sweats one gets when they have a fever.

"We're in the USJ, which is pretty isolated. All Might was supposed to be here, too… Is it out of the question to think that maybe they're targeting him?"

"That's a good point." Shouto said darkly. He was gazing past me, still watching my father's fight, which I was now ignoring. "They must have some clear-"

"Enough of this." Mr. Thirteen had at last overcome his confusion, brought on by being blindsided by an enormous group of villains. He waved to the class, motioning for us to follow. "We need to get out, now, while we still have the chance. Everyone, follow me, quickly,"

Izuku was standing still, glancing down the flight of stairs. He was watching my father's fight with immense interest, his wide eyes following his movements eagerly. I grabbed his arm roughly, jerking him along behind me as I ran.

"This is no time for analyzing, Izuku!" I snapped.

We were bringing up the rear of the group, along with Ochaco and Shouto. I felt a heaviness sinking into the pit of my stomach; somehow, I knew we weren't going to be able to get out. Without warning, the blackness that I had seen at the start of the attack materialized suddenly in front of our group. Mr. Thirteen halted in his tracks, gazing up at it with surprise; the inky blackness was something one could easily get lost in.

"I cannot allow you to leave."

With a jolt I realized that the pool of darkness had a head, and a face, which was regarding us in a manner that resembled how an animal looks at something it's about to eat. Just beneath what I assumed was the head, the villain wore what appeared to be a metal choker of some kind, which glimmered in the bright light of the USJ. I gulped, releasing Izuku's arm.

"Greetings," he began again. For a villain, he was surprisingly polite. "We are the League of Villains. I apologize for the intrusion, but we took it upon ourselves to into UA academy, the base for all of you heroes, in order to engage with Mr. All Might, the symbol of peace."

I narrowed my eyes: I had been spot on.

"We were hoping to be allowed the opportunity to extinguish him, you see. I had been under the assumption that Mr. All Might would be attending this meeting- perchance, has something been altered…? No matter-"

I cast my eyes around the class, realizing as a small _click_ met my ears that Mr. Thirteen meant to engage in battle with the blob of darkness that had appeared in front of us. I bit my lips, continuing to glance around at my classmates; one false move, and things could get ugly. As if on cue, none other than Eijiro and Katsuki leapt forth from our group, snarling in an enthusiastic manner. Their charge interrupted Mr. Thirteen's plan, and the darkness's attention turned instead to the two young heroes-in-training who were now fast approaching him.

"You morons!" I cried out over a loud explosion, the result of Katsuki's attack. "He's a warper- you won't be able to attack him that way!"

"Daichi-san, what do you mean?" Izuku muttered from beside me. The darkness was saying something to Eijiro and Katsuki, whose attack had failed.

"That guy is clearly how the villains got in here." I said. I felt my core temperature spike, my eyes refusing to move away from the warp villain in front of me; I needed a plan. "It seems like he's a portal- like, his whole body is nothing _but_ a portal. If that's the case, then we can't let him get too close-"

Before I had even finished my warning, my fears were realized. In a single swoop our class was swallowed by the dark mass in front of us, while his disembodied voice made us illicit promises of fear and torture. I felt bodies moving around me, but I was unable to see who they were; they came and went, though I was never sure if they were the same people.

Then, suddenly, the blackness parted, and I was able to see clearly once more. As I glanced around me, I realized that I was falling through the air. I took a breath, both to steady my own concentration as well as to try and feel less like throwing up. A moment later, an enormous chunk of earth had flown up to meet me. I hit it rather roughly, letting out a grunt and stretching as I flipped over onto my stomach before crouching on top of the rock.

I was still several feet above the ground, hovering alone in the middle of what looked like the Landslide Zone of the USJ. I arched an eyebrow, rolling my eyes despite the terror within me that was lurking just beneath my brief fit of annoyance; were these villains idiots? Had they really just dropped a girl with an earth element Quirk into the Landslide Zone? Before I could consider this any further, a noise to my right drew me out of my thoughts.

A punch to the side of my face sent me flying in the opposite direction. I bounced several times against the dirt covered ground, a low grunt escaping my lips as I finally slid to a halt a few feet from where my chunk of earth continued to float several feet above the ground.

Standing next to the rock that I had used to land was a young man- at least, I assumed that he was young. His skin was chunky, brown, but his appearance was otherwise fairly nondescript. He wore a triumphant smirk, no doubt in response to the air I'd caught as a result of his punch; my face throbbed slightly where he had struck me, and I glowered.

"Well, well, well," he growled, shifting his position slightly as he spoke. I was suddenly aware of the fact that he was flanked by two other villains; all three of them looked slightly animalistic. "Lookie what we've got here, boys- a pretty little _girl_ hero!" The men behind him chuckled- they were getting closer.

"Is it just her?" muttered another from behind the leader, who shook his head.

"The other group is taking care of the second kid that warped here- I'm sure they'll be wrapping up soon."

While they spoke I closed my eyes, gathering my energy and collecting my thoughts. Around me pebbles began to rise, levitating at eye level as I activated my Quirk. Chills ran down my back as sand grazed my exposed skin. It was as though the tiny granules were wanting to tell me: _We're ready._

"Anyways, let's take care of this kid fast, and-"

I silenced them before they could get out another word. I stretched out one arm, not bothering to move from the spot where I had fallen. My legs were covered in dust, and the cuts that my bare legs were now covered with stung as sand burrowed into my exposed flesh, sand mixing with blood in a delightfully unpleasant way.

As I stretched out my hand I felt my core temperature rise, a light sweat breaking out across my temple; I ignored it. The villains watched with unguarded horror and surprise as an enormous pile of earth, molded by my Quirk into the shape of my arm, sprung out of the ground. The familiar crumbling noise of rock against rock met my ears as the ground below shifted to make up for the empty space left over.

"What the- ?" shouted one villain, backing away very swiftly. I made a face; despite their intimidating appearance as a group, the villains I was facing now were surprisingly unimpressive.

"What th'hell was Black Mist thinkin', sendin' an earth element Quirk kid to the landslide area?" yelled the leader as he crouched low to the ground, as though he were preparing to fight. I smirked.

With a quick movement of my wrist, with very little flourish, I sent the earth arm soaring towards them. The leader jumped out of the way while another attempted to fight it with what I could only assume was some kind of strength-enhancing Quirk. I scowled, and with a flick of my wrist and a small mental push I squashed him like a bug. I heard a tiny _oof_ as the villain became trapped beneath the arm's rocky fingers.

"Dammit, Black Mist!" growled the leader, who was now glowering at the ground. His comrade squirmed as he struggled to escape from my clutches.

I stayed seated, content with continuing to lazily battle these subpar villains while remaining flat on my ass. Clearly, whoever was in charge of this shindig had not expected for the students to be able to hold their own- that was the only explanation for the embarrassingly low level of skill that the villains in front of me possessed.

I moved my hand, flipping my palm as I rotated my free arm in a clockwise motion in front of me. The rock from earlier that I had used to break my fall flew through the air towards the second villain. His reaction time, slow it was, was not quick enough to allow him to dodge the simple attack. The rock hit him squarely in the gut, knocking the wind out of him before sending him flying far, far away from me. His limp body gliding unceremoniously through the air slightly resembled a rag doll thrown by a child.

I was sweating more, now, but I ignored my own discomfort, instead shifting my arms in front of my face to follow the first forms of Hakkeshou. I raised up both arms, staggered slightly, palms facing up; a low rumble met my ears from behind me, and I saw the remaining villain's eyes widen in shock.

"Well, what did you expect?" I muttered from the ground. Behind me an enormous wave of earth rose like the tide, crashing through the USJ arena with a force that shook the ground beneath me. "This _is_ the landslide zone, after all."

The current of dirt and rock parted around me like red sea, earth and various debris churning across the ground, burying the final villain and his trapped comrade beneath layers of sediment. Dust filled the air, though I made sure that it went nowhere near my face- I did not much fancy inhaling a cloud of dust. I sighed, at last able to drop my arms and rest. I felt slightly out of it, but I was not quite sure why- even though my core temperature was broiling away within me, it had been a fairly short fight.

"Daichi?"

My head snapped to my right, blue eyes meeting the familiar mismatched pair of Todoroki Shouto, who was climbing over a mound of rock to get closer to me. He did not look afraid; or, should I say, he looked more frustrated than afraid. The sand crunched beneath his shoes as he walked towards me, his eyes looking bored as he scanned the area around us for potential threats.

"Hey, Shouto," I muttered from my place on the ground, covered in dirt and dust. "Is it just you?" He nodded.

"These villains didn't really do their homework, did they?" he chuckled, eyeing the enormous pile of rock that now covered my former foes. "Dropping you, of all people, into the landslide zone?" I made a _pfft_ sound, scoffing in agreement.

"That's what I was just thinking." His eyes regarded me coolly, watching my every miniscule movement oh-so carefully. It was beginning to annoy me. "What?" I growled under my breath. He shrugged.

"Just making sure you're feeling alright." he replied nonchalantly. "About your father, I mean." My heart stopped momentarily as I jolted back to reality. That's right- my father had his life on the line right now. "You looked worried earlier. It made me worry." Despite my tiredness I felt myself blush.

"Did you do alright on your end?" I asked, changing the subject quickly. He nodded, and I noticed that with every breath he was also letting out a visible puff of air. "You seem chilly." His only response was to glare at me.

"Did you talk to them at all?" he asked; it was now his turn to quickly change the subject.

"Who- the villains?" He nodded. "No, I was a little preoccupied with kicking their asses to ask questions." was my sassy reply.

Shouto rolled his eyes, extending a hand to me and helping me stand. My shoes, which had been forced upon me by my father while exiting the bus, scraped against the sand in an irritating sort of way as I walked.

"Well, I talked to them." Shouto began, casting his gaze towards the far side of the landslide zone. "I'm not sure how much to believe of what they said… But I know that they're trying to get to All Might, for sure."

"With these shoddy skills?" I scoffed, jerking my thumb in the direction of my precious earth pile. I heard a faint groan emerge from its depths. "They're a bunch of dreamers if they think they can take All Might on like that." Shouto shook his head, looking grim.

"They were… talking about some sort of weapon…" he murmured.

I froze, our eyes meeting again; I wondered if that was a part of his Quirk, being able to make people freeze with just a single look. I chuckled internally at the thought, but was quickly brought back to reality by the gravity of the situation.

"Weapon… What sort of weapon?" I asked. He shook his head and shrugged.

"I didn't get much out of them after that," he said. "They were pretty cold by that point, so I knocked them out… But I got the feeling that it's more like they've got a pretty powerful person up their sleeves, rather than an object." My heart skipped a beat nervously.

"My dad is back there," I whispered. I could not conceal the terror in my voice. "He's good at what he does, but my dad can't fight a person meant for All Might…" Shouto nodded knowingly.

"I know…"

"We have to get to him!" I cried, suddenly in a panic. "We have to warn him- help him!"

"Daichi, hold on-"

"Why?" I exclaimed, feeling almost enraged.

His hand was gripping my arm tightly, holding me back as I attempted to charge full speed towards the fountain where I knew my father would still be fighting.

"Calm down," he murmured softly. His hand on my body was soothing, but I refused to think about that just then. I needed to get to my father. "Just think about what you're saying…"

"I'm sorry, Shouto," I whispered. My eyes met his once again, trying to convey what I was feeling to him. "I have to go- you can't stop me."

Shouto paused, his gaze looking thoughtful as he looked into my eyes. He pursed his lips, clearly feeling conflicted, but then nodded very slowly. His grip on my arm loosened, his rough fingers pulling away from my bare wrist as he resigned himself to letting me do as I please. Shouto continued to nod, as though doing it was some sort of self-assuring action.

"I heard some explosions coming from the area next to ours," he said, casting his eyes to our collective left. "I'm going to go check it out- maybe some of our classmates are there and need help."

"That's the mountain area." I informed him. He nodded, showing me he had understood.

"Go do what you need to do." he continued. He shoes scraped against the sand as he turned away from me, taking several steps in the opposite direction. "Don't say I didn't warn you… You've no clue what you'll be in for if you go to him, now."

"I know…" I murmured. I turned away from him, too, facing in the direction that I knew my father would be. "Thanks, Shouto."

And then I was running, sprinting as fast as I could straight through the center of the USJ. The soles of my shoes _tip-tap_ -ed along as they hit the concrete walkway that connected all of the various arenas within Mr. Thirteen's precious facility. In the back of my mind, I felt rather bad for him; each explosion I heard or rumble that I felt meant that part of his facility was likely being destroyed.

I stopped running when I reached the edge of the lake: I had reached the flood zone. I cast my eyes to my right, slightly able to make out my father fighting several people from where I stood. I paused, removing my shoes by the water's edge- all shoes had ever done for me was slow me down. I flicked my wrist before stepping into the water, the bottoms of my feet resting on a thin bridge of earth that I had raised to the top of the water.

My feet sloshed quietly with each step that I took, the noise lost beneath the shouts and other noises surrounding me, filling the area within the USJ. I had stopped looking at the fight as I walked, not wanting to see my father getting hurt while I was in the process of sneaking up on our enemy.

"Daichi-chan?"

A monotonous ribbit broke through my internal worrying- a panicked rambling that had been filling my head since the very first moment I had seen the hand-man emerge from the darkness of the warp villain's Quirk. My head snapped up, blue eyes coming to rest on three of my classmates: Tsuyu, Izuku, and Mineta. They were wading tiredly through the water, save for Mineta, who was being dragged by his scarf- which was held tightly in Tsuyu's fist- through the water.

"D… Daichi…" Izuku choked out. He was holding his hand and wincing- he had used his Quirk.

"Are you all alright?" I whispered, being careful to keep my voice down. I was not yet sure how close we were to any potential enemies.

Izuku nodded as I reached out to them. I pulled him up onto my land bridge, careful to grab his uninjured hand as I did so. He gave me a grateful smile, which I returned before taking Mineta off of Tsuyu's hands. I grabbed him roughly by the collar, giving him a look of distaste before dropping him unceremoniously onto the bridge beside Izuku. Tsuyu ribbitted a word of thanks as I at last helped her out of the water.

"How are you, Daichi-san?" Izuku murmured at last.

We were now all standing on my bridge, which was barely submerged beneath the water's surface. We almost appeared as though we were walking on water.

"I'm fine," I replied easily. A low rumble from beyond the water's edge made me jump, and a lump rose in my throat; that had come from the direction of my father's fight. "These lowlifes dumped me in the landslide zone-" Tsuyu scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I know, right?"

"Did these guys really have a plan up their sleeves?" Izuku said. I could sense that he was on the verge of one of his classic Izuku muttering fits. "At first it really seemed as though they did- waiting for us to be separated from the rest of UA, stealing the schedule to be sure who'd be here, separating us from one another-"

"Izuku!" I hissed, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders. A firm yet gentle shake brought him to his senses. He gave a nervous chuckle before settling down again. "Anyways, it really seems like that was the extent of their plan- they even dropped Tsuyu in the flood zone. Tsuyu loves floods."

"I love floods." Tsuyu echoed with a croak.

We began to walk very slowly forwards, Mineta bringing up the rear. Izuku was nursing his hand, holding it gingerly in front of him as we walked. The rumbling had not stopped since I had heard it the first time, and in the distance I could begin to make out several figures on the concrete shore of the lake. The fountain that took up the center of Mr. Thirteen's USJ was still bubbling away happily, without a care in the world, ignoring the widespread panic within the facility and simply continuing to pour clear water from its spout.

I was now looking down at my feet, knowing that I needed to keep moving forward, but now feeling too scared to look at my father's fight. Then it would be real- whatever injuries my father had sustained, however badly he had been beaten- that would all materialize the moment I decided to look.

I did not want to see… I was not ready to see just how hurt he had gotten by fighting so many villains at once, all on his own. The edge of the lake was far enough away that all we heard were distant mutters as my father spoke to his opponents, and dull thuds as they struck each other; I flinched every time, imagining it was my father who was being hit.

My eyes shifted, my gaze moving ever so slightly, coming to rest on Tsuyu. I had not realized that she had dismounted from my bridge, clearly content within the coolness of the water. As she was crouched at the edge of the water, half submerged, clinging to the concrete edge of the man-made lake that comprised the flood zone, I realized with a jolt that she looked scared, sad, awe-struck… What was going on?

"Tsuyu…" I whispered. My eyes were fixed on her. I did not want to see what was happening. Tsuyu's eyes were wide; I did not like this feeling. "Tsuyu, what's-"

A loud screech overpowered my words. It was a sickening noise, one that rang through my body and viscerally repulsed me to my very core. The sound was strangely human, and yet so far from a human's cries that it was unrecognizable to me; it was coming from in front of us. From where my father was.

"Midoriya-chan…" Tsuyu whispered, meeting my eyes and then glancing back at our comrades. I followed her gaze, realizing with a jolt of horror that Izuku had become so terrified that he was sweating. "Midoriya-chan… This is too much for us to help with…"

"We've gotta be having second thoughts about coming here, right?"

Mineta's voice came out slightly garbled, his palms clapped over his mouth. A mixture of surprise and pure terror contorted his features. I heard a strangled sound of pain come from the area where my father was fighting; my heart stopped.

Finally, very slowly, I forced my eyes to travel away from Tsuyu. They moved forwards, in the direction that I knew my father would be. Rubble littered the area surrounding the fountain, and in some places there were huge chunks of earth missing. Debris lay scattered every which way, evidence of the fight that had taken place. At last, my blue eyes fell on my father, and my breath caught in my throat.

Above him was one of the most sickening beings I had ever laid eyes upon. Its brain, which was exposed at the top of his head, bulged in an unnerving way with every movement that it made. It was enormous, bigger than All Might, its muscled hands gripping my father much too tightly. My father's face was bloody, broken; he looked like he was in an immense amount of pain. The creature above him screeched threateningly when my eyes met its gaze. The noise sent chills down my spine. I felt frozen.

"Oh…?" A snide voice cut into my shock, jolting me from my shocked stupor. I realized suddenly that the hand-man was standing a few feet away from my father, watching gleefully as the monster toyed with him. "What do we have here…?"

His eyes, which were barely visible behind the fake hand that adorned his face, were red and ravenous as they fell on us. Behind me I heard an audible gulp escape Mineta; Tsuyu was wide-eyed from her place in the water; Izuku was completely silent.

"Daichi!" I jolted, coming out of the near trance-like state I had been in at the sound of my father's voice. He was yelling- I had never heard him yell like that. "Daichi, no! Run! Go, now!"

"... papa…"

My words came out in a whisper so quiet I was surprised that anyone knew I had spoken. The hand-man perked up. He was walking towards us, edging closer and closer like a predator.

"What's that now?" he chided.

His mouth was curled in a strained sort of smirk, the kind that's so wide that it looks as though your face might crack. My stomach churned, and I suddenly began to feel very sick. My body was frozen, suspended on top of the water by my land bridge beneath me. I felt my body twitching; I did not know if it was out of fear or anger.

"Daichi! Please, just run!" my father screamed again.

The creature shoved my father's face deep into the dirt, and I heard a pained grunt escape his mouth. The creature squawked, apparently very pleased with itself.

"Papa…"

"Daichi-san, why do you keep saying that?" Izuku hissed from behind me. "We need to go… Daichi-san, we need to-"

"Are you… saying 'papa'?" the hand-man asked. He had stopped walking, and was now perched on the edge of the lake. We were only a few feet apart. " _You_ are the daughter of Eraserhead?" I said nothing, though I heard a few confused murmurs from the direction of Tsuyu and Izuku. "I thought you looked familiar…"

Familiar…? What did he mean by that? I wanted to ask, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not get my lips to move; no matter how hard I tried, my eyes refused to leave my father's body. He was now completely immobile, and I struggled to push my fear of his death farther into the back of my mind as it squirmed through my consciousness. A few splashes to my rear indicated that my friends were backing away; I did not blame them.

"Well, well…" the man sighed. He sounded rather mad, his voice warbled like a broken radio speaker. This person belonged in an asylum. "Noumu, we're going to play a little game…" the man continued. The creature made a noise that I did not like. "This girl is old man Aizawa's little girl… Let's see how she fares…"

"Papa…" I said again, louder this time. My fingers, which had previously felt very numb, began to regain feeling.

"Let's see what happens when I do this-" He snapped his fingers and the creature lifted up my father's body; it was very limp. "Noumu-" My eyes widened as I suddenly regained my sensibility.

"Papa!"

With my defiant snarl came an enormous pillar of earth, springing forth from the ground and hitting the hand-man squarely in the face. He went flying, soaring through the air before hitting the fountain. I kept the earth following him, crashing into him again when he landed; the fountain burst into smaller chunks of rock, which scattered themselves across the floor.

I snapped my head to the right, angry blue eyes falling on the creature. It was still gripping my father, but was casting a confused expression every which way. I raised one arm as I stepped from the water to the concrete. The pads of my feet scuffed lightly against the cold stone surface, though their sound was lost amongst the noise of the crumbling fountain.

Following the motion of my arm, a swarm of concrete granules squirmed fluidly in between my father and the creature before solidifying into a block. Momentarily confused, the creature released my father's arms, focussing instead on the new obstacle in front of it. I smirked- despite our enormous strength differences, I clearly had the advantage in intelligence; that was the only thing that I had going for me. I stomped the ground with one foot before pushing my arms through the air- away from my body- forcing the creature back from my father.

The creature's weight and strength pressed against my consciousness as I forced it back inch by inch. The concrete block seemed to be of little hindrance to it, physically, but its presence alone as well as its incessant pushing seemed to cause the creature a fair amount of confusion. Without his master, the hand-man, to give it orders, the creature appeared to be fairly useless, albeit horrifyingly strong.

Without a second thought I ran to my father's side. My stomach felt heavy as it churned anxiously within me; my body was a nervous tangle of thoughts and over stimulated nerves. I crouched down, reaching out to him with my sweaty palms. Heat was now radiating through my body quite uncomfortably, as every few seconds I was having to wave my arm to resurrect my concrete distraction each time the monster pummeled it into bits.

"Papa…" I whispered, picking up his head and resting it on my bent knees. "I'm going to get you out of here, alright?"

My voice was cracking, though my eyes seemed to be unable to shed any tears. I was unsure of what to call the emotion that I felt at that time- a mixture of terror, sadness, hopelessness and stress. I doubted there was any one word that would be able to fully convey my internal state of being.

"Errm… Daich… i…"

My father could barely speak through his pain; the hero Eraserhead seemed on the brink of death. His eyes, which were almost lost within the pulverized mess of his face, searched for mine through the haze of blood that clouded his vision. I squeezed his shoulders tightly with my hands- just briefly- before gently replacing him on the concrete. I flipped my arm upwards again, the sound of crumbling rock indicating that Noumu had destroyed yet another concrete slab.

I stood up, slowly, straight as I could manage through my fear; my eyes had come to rest on the hand-man, who was gingerly removing himself from the pile of rubble that had previously been the USJ fountain. My mouth was set in a firm line as I stepped carefully over my father, deftly avoiding his hand as he weakly attempted to grab my ankle. The expression on my face was one that I hoped conveyed a sense of determination, but behind my lips I was biting my tongue, willing my body to stop shaking.

My right fist clapped against my left palm as I assumed the bow that began the first form of my Hakkeshou; my hands slipped against each other, my palms more sweaty than I could recall them ever having been in the past. A nondescript moan escaped my father's mouth as he began to lose his grip on his actions, succumbing to the pain and blood loss. I glanced over my shoulder, making a lifting motion with both palms. Three tall walls of rock sprouted up around my father, curving over him like a cave.

I waved my arm again, and the concrete that I had been using to distract Noumu shifted its shape to resemble a body. I had to keep him occupied- he would fight an opponent made of concrete as I fought the dirtbag who wounded my father.

"... That hurt…"

The hand-man had at last erected himself. He was hunched amidst the rubble of the fountain, his unsettling gaze fixated on me from behind the fake hand that was his mask. His body was shaking, and I suddenly realized that he was laughing. The queasy feeling had returned to my stomach; this man gave me the chills.

"Do you mean to hold us both off until help arrives?" he asked me, turning to face me completely as he spoke. I swallowed thickly, a nervous ball rising in my throat at the realization of what I was doing. I did not reply. "That's plucky…"

"I won't let you hurt him anymore…" I whispered.

I cursed myself for my lack of conviction, moving my hands all the while as I made the stone person I had created dance around Noumu in a taunting fashion. The man continued to laugh at me.

"Hmm…" the man mused. His voice sounded like an eerie melody. "Well, it would be a shame not to get in a few jabs at All Might's pride, so long as I'm here…"

"What are you waiting for, then?" I hissed back. Sweat trickled down my back. "You're stalling."

This simple comment seemed to be enough to spur him. A scathing _tch_ noise was his only reply to my weak taunt while he crouched slightly lower to the ground. I stiffened as I prepared to fight, pushing through the waves of heat that now lay siege to my body. I stopped waving my arms, placing my hands in their typical staggered position and ignoring the uncomfortable coolness as the air hit the damp parts of my leotard, which was now mostly drenched in sweat. I was counting on the concrete having been under my influence long enough to follow my movements.

And then the man was running, charging straight towards me with all of his might. I dragged my left foot out in a semicircle in front of me, making concrete rise directly behind it, following the path of my foot while increasing in height. A pause, and then a stomp of the foot; the concrete disconnected from the ground. I clenched my fists, parting my arms away from one another and moving them perpendicular to my body, causing the concrete to break apart into chunks and disperse through the space around me. Through the floating rubble I caught a glimpse of my opponent, who had chosen to rush towards my father rather than attack me directly.

A glower contorted my features, a combination of pure anger and the effort of fighting. With a low growl I spun around to face the direction of my father, twirling my arms across and then around each other before flattening my hands and pushing them through the air in a forward motion, palms facing towards the hand-man. A chunk of concrete soared through the air, landing in front of his foot as him made to move closer to my father. The villain dodged and parried, but I continued with my pattern of twirling and pushing, my arms dancing through the air as I sent a continuous stream of rubble in his direction.

A low snarl escaped the man as a flying chunk of concrete caught him in the shoulder only feet away from my father's resting place. He stumbled back, scuffling across the concrete floor from the force of the impact. Out of my periphery I watched as Noumu stared dumbly at the the twirling concrete body in front of him, which was copying my movements. It seemed that without direct orders, the creature could barely do much at all.

The momentary distraction of checking up on Noumu was enough to give my opponent an opening. A low exclamation of triumph caught my attention to my right, and I turned just in time to see the hand-man's face come within inches of my own. My eyes widened in shock, nearly tripping over my feet as I scuttled clumsily backwards to put distance between the two of us. His arm was outstretched, groping the air in an attempt to grab some part of me. I waved a single palm in front of my face, blocking his hand with a hardened wall of crushed concrete.

The man ducked down low, swerving and attempting to grab me for a second time. I grimaced, ignoring the sweat that was stinging my eyes while barely managing to block his hand with another wall of hardened dust. Again and again this occurred: the man struck, I barely dodged, only to find that he had moved to strike again before I could even recover from his last attempt. I was slowing down, and he knew it.

Resigning myself to the possibility of injury, I did the one thing I could think to do: I did not react. He struck, which I once again barely blocked, which was followed by him immediately shifting his weight and parrying around in another direction to try again. This time, I did not spin my body to follow his movements. I forced my aching, sweating, terror-stricken body to freeze, following his movements with eyes and ears alone as I waited for the opening that had always been there. In my haste to divert his blows I had continuously ignored the time it took for him to get into a position to strike. I had let my fear override my better judgement, and I knew that if I were to let it go on any longer I would eventually tire and be killed.

The opening came just when I knew it would. The man parried my defense, ducking low and swerving to my other side. His foot, which always came off of the ground briefly when he spun, landed on the ground with a scuff- and this was where he had to pause. The split second that the hand-man needed to regain his balance after parrying was all the time that I had to attack him, and I had missed it each time as my fear spurred my instinctive and reactionary defenses. This time, I took it.

"Got you-"

A loud crack cut off the villain's words as I whipped my right hand in a downwards parabola- front to back- before swinging it around and up, ending at the top of my head. A fluid arch of concrete broke the surface of the floor like a wave, smacking into the man's face and sending him careening clear in the opposite direction. I heard a growl of anger and pain as his back hit the ground- once, twice, three times- before he at last slid to a halt on the other side of the central plaza. He landed several yards away from the edge of the downpour zone, a cloud of dust following in his wake.

I wiped the sweat from my brow with my sleeve, an audible splash meeting my ears as my sweat hit the ground. My breathing was labored, and it was becoming very difficult for me to see clearly. I felt feverish, lightheaded, my vision swirling ever so slightly as I stared intently at where the hand-man had fallen.

He pushed his torso off of the ground, propping himself up on his hands. His head was hung, hiding his face, and I realized that his hand mask had been knocked off by my attack. My gaze shifted, falling on the false hand that now lay directly in between my opponent and myself; he did not seem happy at all. A strangled cry broke our silence, making me jump with surprise. Sweat dripped down the sides of my face with the force of the jolt.

"It's no good!" he cried, pushing himself into a crawling position. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

He continued to murmur nonsensically as he clawed his way towards the hand, grasping at it desperately when he finally made his way to where it rested on the cold concrete. His muttering did not stop as he replaced his mask, staring at the ground all the while. I heard my father shift from behind me, but the noise stopped quickly; he no longer had the strength to move.

The appearance of the familiar black warp of the hand-man's villain companion shook me out of my temporary trance. Ripping my eyes away from the man on the ground, I watched as the second villain materialized in a spiral of darkness. His sharp eyes regarded the man on the ground with a reserved manner, though it was difficult to read his emotions due to the fact that his face was nothing more than a nondescript darkness with eyes. I did not move from where I was standing, unsure of how to proceed or what was going to happen.

"Shigaraki Tomura…" the portal villain muttered, his metal neckpiece glimmering in the light of the USJ.

The man on the floor perked up, though he did not stand. My eyes widened in shock as my exhausted brain made a faint connection: Shigaraki Izanami was the name I had read on the old newspaper clipping.

"Black Mist…" the man called Tomura said faintly, standing up at last. His body wobbled as he stood. "Then, Thirteen is dead?" My heart sank.

"I have incapacitated him," Black Mist replied rigidly. "Though I'm afraid the students that I could not scatter impeded me… He was therefore able to escape with his life." I let out a small sigh of relief; I felt dizzy.

Tomura's response was to let out a sickening wail, a ghostly low warble of a whine that was nearly too much for me to bare in my exhausted state. His body shook, as did his voice, though I could not tell if it was from insult or injury.

"Black Mist, you… If you can't be a proper warp gate, then our plans've crumbled!" he choked out, his eyes downcast and enraged. "If they throw dozens of pros at us, we can't win… No… No… It's game over for now."

I cast my eyes to my right, checking up on my father while the villains murmured about their next move. His breathing was heavy, and he lay in an uncomfortable-looking position, his body tangled in an odd way within the confines of the concrete cave that I had built for him. His eyes were darting back and forth between me and the villains, and I could tell that he was clinging to consciousness desperately, determined to not take his eyes off of me. Several yards behind him, Noumu had stopped moving, his gaze fixated on Tomura intently.

"Well… Shall we hop back…?"

Tomura and Black Mist exchanged a glance, the warp villain gesturing in a way that slightly resembled a nod. Tomura sighed, rubbing his head and squirming slightly where he stood; he seemed to be trying to make up his mind about something.

"Just one thing… I have to do before…" he began. His right arm snaked towards Black Mist, whose eyes were now fixed on me. My breath caught in my throat. "... I have a score to settle, here…"

"DAICHI!"

My father's scream and the pain hit me simultaneously; without having realized it, Black Mist had created a warp gate between Tomura and myself. Tomura, whose arm was now submerged within the depths of Black Mist's portal, wore a gleeful expression, though it was hidden beneath his mask for the most part. His hand, which had appeared out of the air next to me, gripped my elbow tightly. His fingertips dug into me, the shock of his attack frying my nerves as my costume and skin began to dry out and peel.

I was no longer hot. The feverish feeling that had previously filled me was now replaced by a cold sweat, stabbing pains, and the feeling that I might vomit at any moment. The pain in my arm was more than I had the ability to describe; my father's cries were lost to me as my mind went blank, my ears filling with a monotonous, high-pitched noise that resembled the sound of a flatline on a heart monitor. My vision shook, my eyes rolling back and forth in my head, unable to fixate on anything but the pain that I felt. Blood dribbled down my arm, pooling at my feet. Warm blood bathed my toes.

"Got you." Tomura goaded.

I could no longer feel my own presence within my mind. I was only very clearly aware of two things: My pain, and the one who had caused it.

" _No…_ " I replied, my voice warped from effort of speaking through my pain. My head flopped to one side as a wide sneer broke out across my face; it hurt. " _Got you!_ "

The blood on my toes sprang upwards, twirling like snakes through the air. It gripped Tomura's wrist tightly, holding his hand in place where he still grasped my arm. I did not move, my head limp and body numb, as a thin but sturdy sheet of concrete shot out of the ground directly below Tomura's arm. The edge of the sheet hit Tomura, jabbing into his elbow roughly and with excessive force. A loud _snap!_ from his arm told me that the bones were broken.

A cry of pain escaped Tomura from across the plaza. Before Black Mist could do anything, the coils of blood that gripped Tomura's wrist yanked on his now useless arm, pulling him through the warp gate on my end and sending him crashing into the ground behind me. I heard a choke as he hit the ground, the force of the impact being rough enough to crack the weakened cement floor.

The faint _whoosh_ that met my ears was all that alerted me to Black Mist's movements. My eyes could not stop rolling around in my head, back and forth within my sockets, my eyelids spasming in a painful and unpleasant way. I could no longer see what was going on around me.

Black Mist appeared in front of me, though I could barely register his presence with my eyes. My body would not move, and my mind no longer seemed to possess any semblance of rational thought. I felt like a sick person trapped in a fever dream, no longer able to think clearly or control my actions. Black Mist moved towards me, meaning to warp me away from Tomura. My Quirk stopped his actions quickly, even though my body made no movements; his metal collar dented as he was pushed away from me.

The chinking sound of shattering glass filled the air. Tomura was struggling to stand, pushing his body up with his one good arm while Black Mist regained his composure elsewhere. The glass roof of Mr. Thirteen's USJ shattered in multiple places, pulling away from the rest of the dome that comprised the training facility before shooting down towards Tomura as fast as my Quirk could move them.

"Noumu!"

Tomura's shout drew the creature out of its unhelpful stupor. In a flash Noumu was in front of him, on top of him, shielding Tomura from the onslaught of glass that had been sent flying in his direction- thousands of razor sharp projectiles, buzzing through the air like swarms of gnats. The shards hit Noumu's back, one after the other. Some bounced off of his back to return to the air, while others shattered into still smaller shards. Several others stayed near him, spinning themselves like drill bits until their sharp tips were embedded just below the surface of his skin. The creature let out a small whimper and a growl, but did not move.

My body, still numb and uncontrollable, had begun to wobble. I felt sick, and I knew that I had to stop- but stop what? I could no longer remember what was happening around me. As I struggled to grab ahold of any semblance of rational thought, several pillars of concrete sprang up around Noumu, pummeling and pushing him again and again. The creature did not move, but the attacks drew his attention away from Tomura.

Delicately, a tendril of collected debris snaked his body out from underneath of Noumu, who was growling ferociously at the onslaught of glass and concrete. My Quirk pulled Tomura closer to me, the tips of his toes dragging along the floor as the ropes of blood and dust suspended him in the air. My head flopped lazily to the other side, my cheek resting on my shoulder. I still could barely see.

" _Tomura, does it hurt?_ "

No, that didn't feel right to say… Did it?

The sounds of Tomura choking were the only replies I received.

" _This is how you made my father feel."_

My vision suddenly grew dark, a shadow impeding my already compromised vision. Someone- someone much bigger than I was- had appeared behind me. I felt their chest against my back; the sound of the flatline that had been filling my ears ceased, and with a _thump_ that resembled a pile of laundry being tossed onto the floor, Tomura crumpled to the ground.

"Please forgive me, Young Aizawa,"

The familiar voice of All Might drew me back to my senses ever so briefly. A debilitating tiredness washed over me, and I felt a sudden pressure on my neck. I blinked, my vision recovering itself at last; the scene in front of me was nothing but blood and debris.

"You have done quite enough."

That was when my consciousness at last slipped away from me.

* * *

 **A very big thank you to all of those who have read, reviewed, followed or favorited! your support is much appreciated and I hope I can continue to write something you all enjoy.**

 **In response to the comment about Daichi's appearance, I apologize for any confusion. Firstly- yes, the cover art is supposed to be her. The color of her hair, however, was not what I wanted (it's a little too dark). Creamy is not the same thing as orange- I was using it to try and paint a picture of the exact shade I had in mind. Initially I thought of using the word "peachy", but that seemed too bright. I think, after some thought, the colors I would use for reference for those of you who'd like a more clear picture of her are Fuzzy Navel and Papaya... After looking through a lot of shades of orange and pink and cream, I think that the color I am envisioning falls somewhere on a spectrum between those two. Very sorry for any confusion in regards to that!**

 **As always, thanks very much for reading! I look forward to any thoughts or feedback and will endeavor to update again as soon as I can.**

 **Thanks!**

 **Shi-chan**


	7. Recovery

_"I smile to show the pressure of heroes and to trick the fear inside of me."_

* * *

The following day, the school was closed; repairs began on Mr. Thirteen's USJ while my classmates recovered at home. The main building of UA was strangely quiet, as barely a single soul was to be found within, save for a few teachers- including Mr. Thirteen and my father, who were in and out of Recovery Girl's office for most of the day.

As for me, I was asleep for almost the entire day.

The next morning greeted me with bright light, which filtered through the blinds to my recovery room, which was connected to Recovery Girl's main infirmary. I had woken in the middle of the night, unable to return to sleep for the remainder of it. Images of Shigaraki Tomura filled my mind, his warped voice echoing through my ears and making my hair stand on end. My thoughts did not help put me at ease, alone in my dark recovery room, and so I had instead laid awake, staring at the ceiling.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor next to me filled the silence of my room until the school bell sounded that morning. I could hear faint footsteps through the wall, along with the shouts of my classmates, but no one came into my room. I laid alone with my IV drip, staring blankly at the ceiling, awaiting some sort of company.

None came.

It was just myself and my thoughts for the entirety of the school day. I pondered many things, but for some reason was having great difficulty when it came to recovering my memories past a certain point during the villain's attack. I remembered Shigaraki Tomura- that much I knew. I remembered Shouto talking to me, but I was having trouble remembering what it had been about. I remembered feeling very angry; I remember feeling hatred; I remembered feeling pain.

My blue eyes shifted to my right, where my arm lay limply on the bed beside me. From my forearm to just below my shoulder was wrapped with bandages, and a dull throb was ebbing in and out of noticeability from the area nearest my elbow. I pursed my lips, wanting to investigate but deciding that it was better not to. Even if I had wanted to, my body still felt so weak that I wondered if I could bear to lift my left arm- the arm that house my IV drip- to remove the bandages from its counterpart.

I let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Where is everyone?"

My words were a faint whisper, sounding bored and dejected as they rang out through the emptiness of my room. I was beginning to feel rather ignored. None of my friends had come to visit me, Recovery Girl had not come to check on me, nor had my father.

Was I dead?

That seemed to be the only logical explanation. Perhaps I had not really woken up at all. Was this recovery room some kind of purgatory? Was I condemned to suffer in agonizing boredom for the rest of eternity?

I scoffed.

 _That_ couldn't be right.

A sudden noise just outside of my door interrupted my thoughts. I froze, my eyes widening and heart rate quickening in anticipation; the heart monitor echoed the thumping in my ears. Finally, someone was coming to see me. The door slid open, revealing my visitor; I let out a shrill gasp.

"Ack! _Mummy!_ " The person in the doorway rolled their eyes through the bandages that covered their face.

"Calm down. It's your father." he said blandly, sliding the door shut behind him. I let out a puff of air.

"That's a relief." I murmured

The mummified version of my father shuffled towards me, bandages scuffing against each other with every move that he made. At the side of my bed he paused, glancing almost casually at the fluid levels in my IV drip, the readouts on the heart monitor, and then, finally, at me. I blinked dumbly, my tired body content to passively observe him; I did not speak, preferring to save my energy and allow him to say his piece before I considered getting up the energy to say anything.

"It's good to see you're awake," he said softly, gazing at me through the fabric wrappings on his face. I said nothing, watching him while he took a seat, forming a triangle with myself and my bedside table. "Honestly I expected for you to be asleep for a while longer…"

"Hm," was my numb reply, a muffled hum through pursed lips. My father blinked wearily.

"I'm sorry for not visiting you sooner- I had my own stint in isolated care," he gestured briefly to his wrappings. "The school was only closer for one day, after all." I nodded; my father narrowed his eyes. "What is this, a Vow of Silence?"

"No," I replied at last, my voice stony. My father raised what I assumed to be an eyebrow, though it was concealed beneath layers of mummy bandages. "Maybe I've forgotten how to speak- I was left all alone in here for so long, after all."

"Alright, cool it."

I sat in my room silently, exchanging glowers with my mummified father every now and again. He did not seem to be in the best of moods. Not only that, but something in his demeanor suggested an apprehensiveness that I could not quite understand. It was a withholding sort of rigidness that suggested that something- I was not sure what- was weighing on his mind; he did not seem at all inclined to share with me what it was.

"How are you feeling?" he asked finally- a low mumble through his face bandages. I shrugged.

"Mediocre." I replied tartly. My voice sounded as stiff as my body felt.

"Do you remember much?" I shook my head. "What's the last thing that you remember?" I paused, grasping around my consciousness for some semblance of memory. I came up mostly empty. "I worried as much…"

"Were you expecting for me not to remember?"

"You suffered a febrile seizure shortly after you came here," my father said. His voice was very soft against his bandages. "Your temperature was dangerously high- any higher, and you may not have made it… It cooled down very quickly, though…"

"I see…" I murmured.

I touched the back of my hand to my head, half expecting to still be sporting an astounding temperature. I felt dewy, a little warm, though that was nothing out of the ordinary for me. I seemed to be constantly crippled by a low-grade fever.

My gaze shifted beneath my fingertips, which hung in my eyes as my hand was placed against my forehead. My blue eyes fell on a stack of papers on my bedside table, which I had not noticed until that moment.

They looked rather official- like test results of some kind- though the angling of my body was not doing any favors for me as I attempted to read the tiny print out of the corners of my eyes. My father, noticing my staring, reached out one wrapped arm, flipping over the papers. The blank side of the plain white printer paper greeted me tauntingly.

"What are those?" I asked softly, my voice a hoarse whisper.

"We can discuss that later."

"I'd like to know," I protested.

Summoning what little strength I had I lunged for the papers, the pole that held my IV drip bag shifting with my sudden movement. My thin fingers clutched the crisp white paper, pulling the sheets towards me despite the uncomfortable tugging of the needle in my arm. My father's hand, now placed on top of the stack of papers, stopping me.

"Like I said," he began, his tone now much more serious. "We can discuss those _later_."

Before I could let out even a single utterance of protest I was interrupted by the door to my room being slid open. I jolted slightly, swiping my hand away from the stack of papers and facing forwards in one swift motion. Several familiar pairs of eyes greeted me: The nervous but smiling faces of Ochaco, Izuku, Tsuyu, Tenya, and Todoroki Shouto appeared on the other side of the door.

"Daichi-chan!" Ochaco breathed, rushing into my room happily. "You're awake!"

"Uh-"

I began to stammer out some sort of half-assed reply, but was stopped by Ochaco's shoulder covering my mouth when she hugged me. Izuku smiled and waved at me in an awkward sort of manner as he walked to my bedside; Tenya gave me a stiff nod of encouragement; Shouto just looked bored.

"It's good to see that you're awake," Tenya said sternly as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You were quite a sight fighting those villains, Aizawa-san." I pursed my lips- I had forgotten that they would probably know my secret, now.

"Yeah, you were amazing, Daichi-chan!" Izuku exclaimed.

Ochaco had finally released me from her hug, but was still beaming at me from her place beside of Izuku. I had to admit that, side by side, they looked like a very adorable couple.

"I've never seen anyone fight like that," Ochaco remarked airily. "Not anybody our age, anyways…"

"You broke that villain's arm." Tsuyu croaked matter-of-factly.

My eyes widened, my breath catching in my throat after hearing Tsuyu. A vague memory of anger stirred within the depths of my mind, and Tomura's red eyes flashed across my consciousness. Had I really done that much damage to a villain? Shouto gave a soft 'hn' noise of agreement, casting his mismatched eyes toward my father, who was still sitting silently by my bed.

"What do you think, Father-san?" Shouto said, his tone mildly taunting.

My father met his gaze, not bothering to conceal his annoyed glare. He sighed, stiffening as he straightened his body in his seat before answering.

"I think that Daichi displayed exemplary skills as a hero-in-training," he said at last, being careful to keep his tone neutral. "However, right now she has very little memory of what she did. She likely needs to rest just a little longer,"

"Ah… We should have asked before coming here, I suppose…" Ochaco mused, a finger poking her chin.

"Our apologies, Aizawa-sensei," Tenya said, bowing to my father.

My father nodded blandly, seeming resigned to sitting silently at my bedside until my friends cleared out. The group slowly made their way towards the door, pausing in the doorframe after realizing that Shouto had not followed them. He was still at my bedside, though he had moved closer to the bedside table. In his hands Shouto clutched a small glass bottle, which he placed gently on the tabletop before turning and following the rest of the group.

"It's candied ginger," he murmured, fingers tugging the door closed behind him. "You usually feel nauseous after fighting… I've heard it's good for nausea."

The door slid shut, leaving myself, my father, and the ginger alone in the room once more. I small smile tugged at my lips, my blue eyes glancing downward and staring gleefully at the small bottle of candied ginger.

I reached for it, picking it up carefully before unscrewing the cap and plucking a strip of the ginger out from the bottle. The subtle spice of candied ginger soon filled my mouth; I took a swig of water, swishing it around in my mouth, enjoying the mixture of cool water and hot ginger.

My father remained stony faced.

* * *

I was kept out of school for three more days, although I was released from Recovery Girl's care almost immediately after waking up. My father kept a close watch on me- it seemed that wherever I went in the house, if he was not at the school teaching, he was my shadow.

Congee was on the menu morning, noon, and night. The taste of ginger refused to leave my mouth, and every evening my father cornered me and thrust a thermometer into my hands. My temperature remained a constant, even, one hundred degrees.

By the third afternoon of this behavior I had grown weary of all of it. The constant ginger smell that filled our home, my lack of training, the feel of a thermometer prodding at the underside of my tongue. Most of all, I resented my father's silence; the mental image of the stack of papers by my recovery bed had filled my mind since that day, but my father had yet to discuss their contents with me.

From the living room couch I heard the click of the front door, followed by a creak as my father opened it, having returned from teaching. I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him sharply as he made his way through the house, making a beeline for the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Bandages still covered every inch of his body, and I wondered vaguely how many times a day he had to change his bandages. It seemed like a pain in the ass, though my sympathy for him was dulled by the fact that my father had behaved like a human bandage to me for the last several days. As such, he had become a huge pain in _my_ ass.

"I was thinking about training today, papa."

My voice, forcefully resolute, broke through the silence between my father and I. I heard him swallow his water, which told me that I had put him on edge; a soft tap indicated that he had replaced his glass on the countertop. I felt his eyes boring holes into me, but I did not take my eyes off of the picture of my mother. I stayed planted firmly on the couch, not moving a muscle.

"You can come with me, if you like."

My father remained quiet, much to my annoyance. Still refusing to turn my head and look at him, I made vague mental guesses about what he was doing in the kitchen. Loud clacking noises and the sound of liquid hitting something met my ears. It stayed like this for ten minutes; my father saying absolutely nothing, me doing the same completely out of spite. At last my father came into view, a steaming bowl of congee in his hands, which he placed on the coffee table in front of me.

"Eat." he commanded blandly through his bandages. "You're not going out today."

"What?"

"You heard me,"

"Why not?" I countered, standing up to face him. He said nothing. "You can't just keep me in here- I'm healed, I'm bored, and the sports festival is-"

"You won't be participating in that." he said resolutely. My heart stopped, and my protests caught in my throat. "Now, eat your food… Don't forget to take your temperature before-"

My father's words were cut short when I slammed my palm into the side of the congee bowl on the tabletop. A loud slapping sound hit my ears, and the clay bowl of steaming rice porridge was sent flying at the wall. A loud smash from my left told me that it had broken; thick splats indicated that the porridge was dripping down the wall and landing on the floor. I was glaring heatedly at my father, my mouth pursed in a tight frown.

"Daichi… Clean tha-"

"What the hell!" I screamed, cutting off my father's words. I felt my armpits begin to prickle with sweat, but I ignored my increasing body temperature. "Why are you acting like this? Are you trying to take me out of school?"

"I haven't made that decision, yet," my father answered. My face contorted into further anger.

"So you're _thinking about it?_ " I hissed, outraged. My father nodded.

"What happened in the USJ-"

"Seems to me I totally saved your butt, from what I've heard!" I retorted. My father scoffed. "You got beaten to a pulp and your daughter totally saved your ass-!"

"Daichi." His voice was darker, now, more stern. I had clearly struck a nerve. "Don't let things like that go to your head. As your father, and as your teacher, I know what's best for-"

"Ooooo~" I spat mockingly, making sarcastic jazzhands. " _As my father and my teacher you know what's best~_ " I spoke with a lisp, abandoning my shame and focussing only on mocking him. "Are you kidding me, papa? Don't act like you've got my best interests at heart when all you're doing is basically holding me hostage in my own home!"

"Don't be so dramatic," my father snapped back quickly. My frown deepened. "I need to observe you closely, now, before I can come to a decision about how best to proceed."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

" _Why_ do you need to observe me so closely?" I clarified, though I did not disguise my annoyance for having to state the painfully obvious. "Do you think I'm some kind of idiot? You're treating me like I'm a sick person- all I've eaten for three days is congee. Honestly, I'm shocked I haven't started pooping rice porridge!" My father rolled his eyes, but I gave him to time to retort.

"I'm sick of ginger, I'm sick of thermometers, and I am absolutely sick of _you!"_

My chest heaved with the strength of my convictions. My father watched me placidly from his place on the other side of the coffee table, assessing my anger and making some sort of mental calculation about how best to proceed from this point. His calm, analyzing demeanor only angered me more, though I was not sure of what else to say on the matter. The rice and ginger disaster I had made on the wall, I figured, was an adequate portrayal of my current feelings on the situation.

"I should have figured this would happen, I suppose…" My father's voice was tired, with a hint of disappointment, though I felt little sympathy for him. He let out a heavy sigh. "If I told you to go to your room right now, would you?"

"No way." I answered stiffly. He nodded; he looked annoyed.

"I thought as much…"

Silence blanketed us once again, neither of us very willing to budge on our defenses. My father was gazing off into some nondescript corner of the house, clearly pondering something. My fierce blue eyes were fixated on him, refusing to move until I got what I wanted, or until I got some kind of explanation.

"I want to know about those papers, papa." I said at last. His eyes met mine. "The ones you wouldn't let me see in the infirmary."

"What about them?" he asked sourly.

"Exactly: _What about them?_ "

My father sighed, turning towards the kitchen and shuffling away from the living room. I paused, becoming briefly flustered by having been left alone. Much to my relief, he returned a few minutes later; he clutched the stack of papers in his bandaged fingers, the bright white sheets held together by a large paper clip.

"These papers?" he asked casually. My eyebrow twitched, unable to conceal my annoyance.

"Yes, _those_ papers, papa." I answered stiffly. "Why wouldn't you let me see them before?"

"I was waiting until I had thought of how to address the situation best…" he muttered, glancing at the front of the papers briefly. His expression was an odd mix of helplessness and annoyance. "Unfortunately, even after three days of mulling it over I haven't been able to think of a good way to talk about it."

"Papa," I said, softly but sternly. "Please just get to the point… What are you hiding?"

The stack of papers hit the top of the coffee table with a soft slap, the paper clip clicking against the wooden table top as it landed. The front page somewhat resembled an intake form, the type one fills out when they go to the hospital. At the top I could read my name, though the farther down my eyes traveled, the more difficult it became to read. I glanced back up at my father, who was staring at the papers as though they had wronged him in some way.

"What is this?" I whispered. My father sighed, again.

"These are the results of some blood work that I had done for you while you were asleep." he admitted. His rigid posture and avoidance of eye contact told me that he felt guilty. "After these results came back, I had similar tests done on your sweat, spit, and your urine."

"Gross." I muttered, shooting a glare at the papers. "Why'd you do that?"

"Something that you did when you were fighting with the villain Tomura," my father explained, his voice strained but calm.

"Oh… Yeah, Tsuyu said I broke his arm?" I mused, glancing off into space as I recalled our brief interaction. "What's so strange about that- just that I was able to hold my own?"

"It wasn't _what_ you did, Daichi, it was _how_ you did it." he said sternly. I blinked at him quizzically, displaying my confusion. "Watching you fight, I saw you control a number of things that- if your Quirk was truly what we thought it was- you should not have been able to control."

"Such as…?" I was working very hard to keep my voice calm, though upon hearing the shaking I painfully aware that I was doing a terrible job.

"A number of things." my father began slowly. "You controlled glass… Metal… Blood…" My breath caught in my throat, and my father's eyes at last made their way to mine. "The blood was what surprised me the most."

"I… I don't remember doing that…" I whispered. I tore my eyes away from my father's, staring at the stack of papers once again. "What do… What do those say?"

"To some degree, they tell me the true nature of your Quirk."

"You had my Quirk factor analyzed?"

"That's right." he said, voice drawn, body stiff. I had never seen my father look so uncomfortable. "The testing of other bodily fluids was just to work out a theory."

"What's your theory, exactly?" I breathed. If the house had not been so quiet, I would bet my voice would not have been heard, at all.

"Your Quirk, I think, is not earth manipulation. Rather, it's _pure manipulation_."

"What does that mean?" I replied nervously. "And why did you have to test all of this to figure that out?"

"When I say pure manipulation, I mean exactly that." he said calmly. Realizing that I was not eager to read the papers myself, my father picked them back up. "I'm not saying that it's limitless- no Quirk can be limitless. But, to some degree, you have the ability to control almost anything."

"Why do you sound so scared when you say that?" I whispered darkly. My father averted his eyes.

"These tests tell me how the hell a Quirk like that is possible," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "That's what worries me."

I reclaimed my seat on the couch, my knees suddenly feeling dangerously wobbly. My father came around to the other side of the coffee table, seating himself on top of it, across from me. Neither one of us could look at each other in the eyes.

"It seems that your Quirk, for the most part, behaves exactly like a virus does." I contorted my face in thought, still staring at the ground. "Your Quirk factor copies itself in your cells, and disperses itself out into the air through a number of ways- I assume mainly sweat, and pheromones."

"... And that's how I can control things, then?" I asked quietly.

"When your Quirk gets into the open air I assume it's able to infiltrate anything that's even slightly porous." my father explained, clearing his throat and running his eyes over the papers once again. "Unlike a real virus, it can infect non-living things, too."

"Please don't say _infect_ ," I muttered. "It makes me uncomfortable." My father made no reply to this, and instead barreled on with his explanation.

"I think that rocks are what came easiest for you because they're non-living, and they're very porous." he continued. "Unfortunately, it seems that your Quirk almost has a will of its own- similar to Tokoyami's Dark Shadow."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that your own body could, potentially, be subject to your Quirk's manipulation." When I did not display the appropriate reaction, my father supplied further clarification. "Your Quirk could take over your body, Daichi."

A panicked numbness spread through my body, giving me the strange sensation that I was being submerged in freezing cold water. A ringing filled my ears, my breath stuck in my throat. My mind searched my body, as though I expected to stumble upon some foreign entity within me. My Quirk lurked within me- watching, waiting- and I had been completely unaware that I had been using a power that had the ability to take my life from me.

"Is that why I can't really remember what happened in the USJ?" I asked softly, finally speaking up. I was still having trouble feeling my body. "Is that why I was able to do so much damage to Tomura? My Quirk… It was controlling me…?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Why has that never happened before?" I was doing my very best to remain calm. Now was not the time for a tantrum, or to panic… I needed to know everything my father knew.

"The interesting thing is that it seems that your body naturally produces antibodies that help you stay out of your Quirk's control," he began, glancing at the papers again. "The increase in your body temperature _is_ a fever- your body is fighting your Quirk like it would fight any other sickness."

"Then why did it control me this time?"

"I think the injury from Tomura sent your body into shock." my father explained. His eyes darkened when he said Tomura's name; I could tell he now harbored a grudge. "When that happened, your immune system became compromised- your defenses went down. I think, in a situation like that, your Quirk could easily take hold of you…"

My father jolted slightly as I stood up, the swift motion taking him by surprise. My hands were balled into fists, my teeth were clenched. A strange paranoia was threatening to take hold in my mind; I was suddenly possessed with a hyper awareness that at every moment my Quirk had the ability to control me, and at last I voiced the concern that had been plaguing me for the entirety of our conversation.

"C… Can I…" I was choking on my own spit, stumbling over my words. "Can I control other people, papa?" My voice was a harsh whisper. My father looked up at me from the coffee table, his eyes filled with a sadness I rarely saw.

"I don't doubt it." he answered. I pursed my lips. "The thing is, other people don't have those antibodies like you do, Daichi…"

I breathed in sharply, realizing quickly where he was going with this. I had learned of something similar in a history class long ago… About how American pilgrims gave blankets infected with smallpox to Native American Indians.

"I think that, if you were to control another person for too long… I think that you would very likely kill them."

And then I was running. The door slammed behind me loudly, muffling the panicked calls of my father, who I had left behind in the living room. I sprinted across the UA campus, ignoring the pains in my bare feet as they scraped across the sharp pavement. My mind was filled with confusion, panic, anger and betrayal. Could one be betrayed by their own Quirk? I wondered vaguely if any other person had ever had to experience such a thing before…

After several minutes I stopped running. My brief stint of house arrest had weakened me, my breathing embarrassingly labored after only a short period of running. My light orange hair stuck to my face, sweat dripping down my neck. I wiped it away, glaring bitterly at the moisture on my fingers as I considered how much power of 'manipulation' was contained in those salty drops of sweat. I wiped my hand off angrily, smearing my sweat on my track pants.

"Why is this happening…"

I breathed heavily, pressing my back against the side of the building and sliding down the brick wall. I held my face in my hands, periodically hitting myself in the face in an attempt to quell the tears that had begun to spill down my cheeks. I felt overwhelmed with resent for my own being. Even these tears, something that should be an innocent, personal action, was a dangerous act; each tear drop contained the ability to manipulate someone else against their will. I felt sick.

"... _Oi_ …"

The sudden greeting shocked me out of my shameful thought spiral. I blinked, attempting to rid my eyes of tears before looking up at whoever it was that I had joined me. I felt my heart skip a beat, suddenly feeling very unnerved by the presence of another person. Whoever it was, it was someone that I could completely rob of their agency- of their life- if I wasn't careful enough. I sighed, wiping the tears away sloppily before meeting their eyes.

The person before was someone that I had never seen before. His wild purple hair stuck out in every direction, giving him the appearance of some kind of mad scientist. His eyes, which looked remarkably tired, matched his hair in color, though the dark circles beneath them detracted from their color. His hands were stuffed lazily in the pockets of his track pants, his plain white t shirt bunching above his wrists. He was sweaty, indicating to me that he had stayed after hours to use the UA training facilities. We locked eyes, and he shot me an expression that fell somewhere between confusion and disappointment.

"You're crying?" the person scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you from class 1-A? How embarrassing…"

* * *

 **Hello again!**

 **as usual, thank you to everyone who read, favorite, followed, and reviewed. all of your words of support are very appreciated and help me very much in my writing! to everyone who has offered their compliments and words of support, it means so much! please don't hesitate to let me know what you think- I'm sorry for the lack of action in this chapter. Honestly it was difficult to get through for me but I knew I needed a chapter of explanation to get over the hump and move into the arc of the sports festival! rest assured not all has been revealed and Daichi has a long way to go if she's going to be able to compete competently in the festival~**

 **thanks again and as always, leave a review and let me know what you think!**

 **Shi-chan**


	8. Control

" _There's a difference between those who always aim for the top and those who don't."_

* * *

The following morning I was out of the house before my father; we had not spoken since the night before. If I was to be completely honest, I was becoming increasingly worried that perhaps our relationship would never be repaired. I was incredulous, as well- what was it about the true nature of my Quirk that created such a strong sense of unease within him? What was he so afraid of? The quiet suspicions that I had kept locked away in the back of my mind began to reemerge in vicious whispers: He was hiding something.

He had not wanted me to come to school today- that much I knew. In fact, I was fairly certain that his original plan had been to keep me out of school until the sports festival, which was roughly two weeks away; slightly behind schedule, due to the villain attack on the USJ that had happened almost a week ago. Despite my initial feelings of uncertainty, confusion, and hopelessness, I had resolved not to let him have his way. Today, being the official time of announcement for the festival, was when I had chosen to pointedly make my return to school.

"Daichi-chan!"

The ecstatic voice of Ochaco greeted me as I stepped into the classroom, an anxious excitement bubbling in the pit of my stomach. The sight of Ochaco's happy brown eyes calmed me almost instantaneously, and despite myself a relieved smile broke out across my face as I waved at her from across the room.

"Good morning Ocha-"

Before I could finish my greeting I had the wind knocked out of me. Ochaco had sprinted across the room, zero-gravity-style, only to release and crash into me with a bear hug. I wheezed from my place in the doorway, an emotional Ochaco gripping my ribcage with surprising strength.

"I was so worried you weren't coming back!" she cried. I grimaced, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the amount of raw emotion she was displaying; it was something that was still very unfamiliar territory for me. "You and Aizawa-sensei have both been gone for so long, I thought-"

"Wait, wait, wait," I interjected, pushing Ochaco back with my palm, but failing to dislodge her entirely from my person. "What do you mean papa hasn't been here?" I asked, confused. I noted internally that it was nice to be able to freely call him my father; I had not realized until now the strain that I had put on myself to keep my identity under wraps. "He's left the house every day… He hasn't been here teaching?" Ochaco shook her head.

"He's still been under fairly strict supervision by Recovery Girl!" she explained. I blinked in confusion and shock- his condition was clearly more serious than I had thought. "I thought that he had been with her or at home this whole time…?"

"No… he's been coming and going from the house all week…" I muttered, suddenly feeling very guilty. "I guess he only came back to the house to check on me…"

"He must be a great father," Ochaco sighed, pride lacing her voice.

I bit my lip, guilt rising in my throat like bile; all I could do was nod. Before I could sink too deeply into my endless internal abyss of culpability, a distraction came in the form of Iida and Izuku, who appeared behind me together.

"Ah, Daichi-kun!" Iida shouted dutifully from my rear. I turned my head, which was mildly difficult with Ochaco still wrapped around me, shooting a smile at the pair from over my shoulder. "Good to see you are well again! We were all rooting for you!"

"Th… Thanks, Iida… How nice…?" I replied shakily, unsure of how to react to such formal condolences.

Izuku, the obviously more socially-adept of the pair despite his inherent awkwardness, waved at me merrily from Iida's side.

"Good morning, Daichi-san!" he said airily.

With Ochaco still dangling from my body I shifted away from the door to allow them space to enter. Finally realizing that she still had a hold on me, Ochaco at last released me- to my relief- a light blush coming to her face now that Izuku was present. I smirked to myself, though I was careful not to alert anyone else to her reaction. Ochaco immediately engaged Izuku in conversation while Iida marched to the front of the classroom; I made to join in Ochaco and Izuku's conversation, but abruptly lost my train of thought as yet another familiar face appeared in the doorway.

"Ah," Shouto said monotonously, his expression just as blasé as ever. "Look who's back." I flushed crimson.

"Y… Yeah, hey!" I blurted lamely. The subsequent eyeroll- directed towards myself- earned me a confused look from Shouto, who was still standing in the doorway.

"Am I bothering you?" he asked calmly. I could have smacked myself.

"No, no… Sorry…" I muttered, grimacing at my social inadequacy. I took a deep breath. "Thank you, it's good to be back."

I could have sworn I saw a smile tug at Shouto's lips, but it was gone quicker than I could register.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Shouto stepped away from the doorway while he spoke, moving closer to me. My heart rate quickened- was it possible to stave off a blush through sheer willpower?

"Better, I think." I said quietly, unable to make my voice any louder due to my intense embarrassment and nervousness. "The ginger helped. Thank you, again." I _definitely_ saw a smile that time.

"Mm…" Shouto mumbled, refusing to meet my gaze. The color of his face was slightly more red than it had been a minute ago, I thought to myself, though I just as well could have imagined it. "It was no trouble… I'm glad you're feeling better."

Unable to find anything constructive to say, I simply smiled; I had been getting better at smiling, recently. It helped that Shouto was around. His eyes finally met mine again, which had the strange effect of both calming me down and quickening my heartbeat. He parted his lips, looking as though he was about to say something-

" _You!"_

I jumped with surprise as Shouto was bumped away from me as someone shoved him farther into the classroom. He came to a halt beside of Izuku and Ochaco, who were wearing identical masks of horror; Iida and Shouto just looked annoyed. The now vacant space that Shouto had been standing in was quickly reoccupied by probably the least-welcomed student in class _1-A_.

"Katsuki." I said blandly, not even trying to conceal my displeasure (not that I had ever been very good at doing that). Katsuki's face was its usual shade of angry, his eyebrows knitting together in an almost painful-looking way.

"Look who came crawling back!" he bellowed from his place in front of me. I grimaced as I tried to avoid a small fleck of spit that escaped his mouth.

"As you can clearly see, I am standing on two legs." I remarked, gesturing to said legs in a bored yet casual manner. Katsuki's expression grew, if possible, even more outraged. "You may not be wholly familiar with the term _'crawling'_ , so let me explain: Crawling is-"

"I know what the fuck crawling is, you dirt rag!" he spat furiously, cutting off my sarcastic rebuttal. I sighed tiredly. "I meant figuratively, you bitch! When were you gonna fuckin' tell us you're dad was the damn teacher?!"

"Never, obviously." I replied tartly.

I moved away from Katsuki, setting my bag down at my desk with my back to him as he continued to seath. Shouto followed me at a distance, coming to rest at the desk beside of mine, keeping his mismatched eyes on Katsuki all the while. It seemed that he had grown rather protective of me during my absence.

"That friggin' figures." Katsuki hissed as I removed a notebook and a pencil from my bag. "Didn't want us knowin' you only got in here 'cause your dad has connections, huh?"

I slammed my pencil against the top of the desk more loudly than necessary, rounding on Katsuki a moment later; I had reached the end of my rope. I could not tell if my rope was just an unusually short one, or if- along with his fiery Quirk- Katsuki also had the unique ability to burn through people's patience.

"Is that _really_ how you think I got into UA?" I inquired, my tone acerbic as I met Katsuki's glower with one of my own. "You may be an idiot, Katsuki, but I know you're not that dumb." He opened his mouth to retort, but I cut him off. "You've seen me fight, so I can imagine that _you know_ that _I know_ what I'm doing. I'm tired of this stupid game you're playing where you pretend to think I'm shit at everything. I know you don't think that, so cut it out."

The class was silent, watching with baited breath as I chewed out the biggest bully in the room. I heard a pop as Katsuki's Quirk mirrored his mood, though he did nothing else.

"You can talk to me, you can ignore me, I really don't care at this point. But I'm seriously over this fake nonsense you keep spouting. Cut it out, or next time I'll make sure you regret it."

Our eyes did not blink nor move from one another's for several long minutes, the silence so heavy with tension that I was surprised that our knees did not buckle beneath it. Katsuki's breathing was labored, heavy, and I could tell that he was holding himself back from saying whatever nonsense was spilling into his head at that moment. I heard another pop from his Quirk, and I saw his fingers flex threateningly by his side, but nothing else happened. At last, Iida broke the silence.

"That's enough!" Tenya Iida shouted from the front of the classroom, at last having worked up the nerve to end my and Katsuki's staring contest. "It's time for this morning's homeroom period… Everyone take your seats! Bakugo-kun, if you please!"

Katsuki's only reply was a scathing noise from his throat, but nevertheless he turned on his heel and walked to the back of the class, leaving me alone at my desk. Ochaco's gaze met my own, and I realized suddenly that she had been standing right behind Katsuki the entire time. Her palms were facing me, arms outstretched; she shrugged innocently.

"Just in case," she whispered, taking her seat at the desk next to mine. Izuku, who was sitting behind her, looked shaken but serious.

"Morning."

I jolted from my place at my desk, head snapping to my right as I realized that none other than my father had appeared in the doorway. He was covered in his usual bandages, his tired eyes peeking out from between the gauze to observe his class. His eyes paused when they fell on me, and I felt the bile of guilt rise in my throat again; he should have been staying with Recovery Girl this entire time, focussing on getting better. Instead, he had been coming home to deal with me and my bad attitude each and every evening.

"Aizawa-sensei!" was the collective exclamation from the class as he entered, sliding the door shut behind him.

"I can't believe you're back already!" Denki exclaimed from his place next to Katsuki, who did not appear to be as impressed with my father as everyone else.

"That's beyond Pro!" Eijiro chimed in from his desk.

My father, ignoring the praise of his students, shuffled to the front of the class to take his place in front of the chalkboard. His body shook with every step he took; it was something that had gone unnoticed by me while we were together at home, but now, in front of the whole class, it was apparent to me just how much pain my father was in. It was a pain that I should have noticed, but I had ignored it in favor of giving into my frustrations towards him. I grimaced, sinking lower into my desk chair as I let the waves of guilt wash over me.

"Sensei, you're alright?!" Iida piped up, raising his hand for some reason, as if my father was going to call on him. Ochaco gained my attention with a wave, meeting my eyes nervously.

"Can you really call that 'alright'...?" she whispered. I shook my head; no, you really couldn't.

"Don't concern yourselves over me," my father said gruffly, coming to rest behind the teacher's podium. "After all, the battle hasn't _really_ ended for you yet."

"The battle…?" I heard Katsuki mutter in confusion from his seat.

"You don't mean more villains?!" Mineta squeaked. I frowned, peering over my shoulder to glare at him. I had forgotten all about him during my brief stint under house arrest- what a blissful time that had been.

"No, not more villains." my father replied, and I could tell that he was withholding an eyeroll. "UA's sports festival is approaching, boys and girls."

"A sports festival..." Tsuyu croaked incredulously from her place a few desks over.

"I keep forgetting that this is an actual school…" Ashido Mina mused from next to Tsuyu.

"Wait, hold up," Eijiro piped up again. My father, who was looking rather bored, stood stoically behind his podium as the students aired their thoughts. "That sounds like something villains would totally try to infiltrate… Right…?"

"On the contrary," my father replied, his tone suddenly serious. "Since we're going ahead with the festival, it means that the school is confident that it has all its ducks in a row when it comes to crisis control, now. I hear police presence will be five times bigger than normal, for example." The class issued a few mutters of approval at this figure, and the atmosphere became immediately lighter. My father ignored this, and continued.

"What you _should_ be thinking about it what a huge chance the academy's sports festival presents for you all. This isn't some event that'll be brought to a halt by the likes of villains."

"I-i-if there are villains, can we _please_ halt the festival?!" Mineta stammered. I rolled my eyes.

"Mineta, have you ever seen the UA festival?" Izuku asked, sounding almost offended by Mineta's request- I didn't blame him; I had grown up with the UA festival.

My experience with the festival was not in the traditional sense that my fellow classmates had 'grown up with' the festival; I had been attending the festival here with my father for as long as I could remember. The UA sports festival is how I had learned what it meant to give something your all; it was where I had learned that I wanted to become a hero.

"Our sports festival is one of Japan's biggest events! In days past, the 'Olympics' was the sports festivity that whipped the nation into a froth of enthusiasm!" My father's own enthusiasm on the subject, paired with his body being entirely covered in bandages, was a bit of a ridiculous sight to behold. "But now, as you know, the extent and population have shrunk and it's lost a lot of substance... So what has taken the place of the Olympics in Japan is the UA sports festival."

"Pro heroes will be there to scout us, Mineta," I muttered from my seat. "It's important, so you shouldn't let your fear of villains get in the way."

"I know, I know, but-"

"How do you expect to be a hero at all if you're so afraid of villains?" I asked, turning around to face him where he sat, behind Izuku. Izuku glanced over his shoulder.

"She does make a point, Mineta…"

"Naturally, entering the squad of a famous hero will get you higher status and more experience." my father continued, cutting into our sidebar. "Remember, time is limited. If you get noticed by a Pro, that gives you the standing for a brighter future than otherwise."

"So kids of Pro heroes are already at an advantage, huh?" Katsuki's brazen voice cut over my father's. I shot a glare in his direction, sticking out my tongue childishly when he glared back at me.

"She's not the only one in the hero course who is the child of a Pro," Shouto informed Katsuki, not even bothering to turn around to look at him. Katsuki's glare turned fiery, but it was lost on Shouto, who chose to continue to give my father his full attention. "Quit interrupting."

"This is the chance you'll get only once a year…" my father said, nodding at Shouto subtly as he spoke. "For a total of three chances. If you aim to be a hero, this is an event that you can't overlook!"

* * *

The rest of my day had been filled with chatting about the sports festival, our thoughts on heroism, and my father blatantly ignoring me. Needless to say, it had been a tumultuous first day back, and when the final bell rang to signal the end of our school day, I was more than ready to return home. I stood by my desk, bag in hand, waiting for Izuku and the others to collect their things. Shouto nudged my side, signalling for me to follow as he made his way towards the door. I obliged with Izuku hot on my heels, followed by Iida and Tsuyu bringing up the rear.

"What the heck?!"

Ochaco's exclamation caused the rest of the class to direct their attention to the door, which Ochaco had opened just a moment earlier. Just beyond the door to class _1-A_ was an enormous group of students, all of whom were pushing against one another in an attempt to get a better look at as. With us on one side of the door, and them on the other, I was given the impression of being an animal in a cage at the zoo. It was extremely unsettling.

"They're crowding the exit…" Mineta muttered from behind Shouto and I. "What's going on?"

"They're scoping out the competition, retard." Katsuki's choice of wording made me wrinkle my nose in distaste. "They wanna see the gang that came through the villain ambush… They're checking us out before the big battle, asshole."

Katsuki approached the doorway, pushing past Ochaco as he did so. Mineta pointed accusingly at Katsuki while giving Izuku the most pathetic expression that I had ever seen, but Izuku being the kind person that he was, responded by apologizing for Katsuki's behavior. I rolled my eyes, hoping against hope that the other classes didn't realize that deep down the entirety of class _1-A_ was a bunch of idiots, myself included.

"It's pointless to try, so why don't you fuck off, you goddamn mob?"

I smacked my forehead, as did Shouto, exasperation not even feeling like a decent enough response to Katsuki's outburst. Izuku froze, suddenly looking terrified, while Iida batted his arms wildly through the air while yelling at Katsuki about first impressions. Could this get any worse? A monotonous voice that issued from the crowd answered my question: Yes, yes it could.

"I came to see what you kids are made of, true," The voice was familiar; eerily familiar. "But I never expected for you to be this arrogant."

A unruly purple mop of hair was moving through the crowd, parting the other students. I gulped, and Shouto shot me an inquisitive look. Katsuki's measurable anger was rapidly shifting from mildly annoyed to threat level midnight.

"You heroics kids sure are weird- whining, crying, bragging… I can't tell if you're useless children or pompous snobs. I'm a bit disillusioned."

Hitoshi Shinso was not like most people that I had ever met before. Then again, I had not met that many people during my lifetime, and acknowledged the fact that he, very likely, was not as incredibly unique as I perceived him.

His purple eyes, which matched the unruly mop of purple hair on his head, contained a veritable sea of emotions, even though upon first glance one may not be able to tell. At face-value, he appeared to be an overtired teen, one who appeared to be fed up to the point of inaction with the status quo of the world in which he lived; his manner of speaking only served to solidify this point. Shinso, I had quickly discovered, was unabashedly brazen despite his soft-spoken nature. Indeed, the current situation I was now witnessing only served to illustrate this point further.

While I had sat by the UA gymnasium, pathetically crying, Shinso had been the one to discover me. I had never seen him before in my life- though, as I said earlier, I was not exactly well connected. A light sheen of sweat had covered his body, indicating to me that he had been training. When I had pressed him about it later that day, he had explained to me that he was training for the sports festival; this had surprised me, because I knew for a fact that he was neither in class _1-A_ or _1-B_.

" _That's right,"_ he had replied stiffly, wiping his brow from his place next to me, though he did not meet my eyes. _"Compared to all of you with 'heroic' Quirks, I'm at an obvious disadvantage."_

" _You don't even know what my Quirk is,"_ I had replied sourly, glowering up at him from where I sat in the dirt. Shinso had given me a knowing smirk and a scoff before turning away from me.

" _Get your shit together, hero,"_ he had said snidely. _"In two weeks, I'm coming for you guys."_

He had declared his war on the heroics course well before interacting with them, and although he was two weeks early, I had to give him props for actually following through. He stood lazily at the front of the mob, which was still blocking our way out of our classroom, hands in his pockets as though this interaction weren't one of the most awkward and tension-filled situations on the planet. I had at least been right about one thing: He was interesting.

"There's lots of students here who end up in the Gen Ed department or others like that because their Quirks weren't tailored to pass the heroics entry test. Did you know that?" Katsuki said nothing, but merely continued to stare at him angrily. "Based on the results of the festival, we can come under review to be transferred into heroics. Likewise, you all can come under review to be transferred _out_." I could sense the shock of my classmates following this statement.

"Scoping out the competition…" Shinso continued, even though no one had audibly responded to him yet. "If anything, a Gen Ed kid like me is thinking 'hey, why don't I try pulling the rug out from under those heroics kids while they're up on their high horses?'... Consider it a declaration of war."

Fighting the anxiousness that was balling in the pit of my stomach, I at last was able to move from the spot where I had been rooted for the last ten minutes. Ignoring a confused gaze from Shouto, I marched to the front of the class, past Katsuki, stopping only when I had gotten nose-to-chin with Shinso, who was still standing just past the doorway with his hands in his pockets. A serious frown contorted my features, which only deepened when I realized that he was smirking.

"Shinso, is this really a productive conversation?" I muttered darkly, feeling the eyes of my classmates on the back of my neck. "From where I'm standing, the only people on their high horses are you and Katsuki."

"Who's Katsuki?" Shinso questioned blandly. I heard several loud pops from behind me, where Katsuki was still standing. I held back a smirk, not wanting to seem like I was picking an outsider's side.

"Take a wild guess." Shinso's eyes went from me, to Katsuki, then back to me again. I nodded. "Exactly."

"So you were in _1-A_ this whole time…" Shinso muttered, taking a step back and meeting my gaze. "You don't seem like the type who could keep a steady hand against a bunch of villains."

"Please stop acting like you know me well," I replied sharply. "Assumptions will only embarrass you, in the end."

"He's not the only one making assumptions around here."

It was a girl's voice that had interjected into my and Shinso's conversation. I turned my head to the left, my blue eyes falling on another girl who was standing just a few feet away from me. I had not noticed her upon my approach, but after seeing her hairstyle, I was unsure of how I had missed her.

She was tall, dark, and mysterious-looking, not to mention the size of her breasts was something to be marveled at considering we were all just freshmen in high school. I tried desperately not to stare, but to my frustration my arms subconsciously came up to cover my own chest; she smirked, and I knew she knew what I was thinking. This exchange was missed by everyone, including Shinso, whose purple eyes slid to his right to come to rest on the girl.

"Oh… Hey, Yaoyorozu."

I blinked, mentally praying that I could figure out her first name before I embarrassed myself stammering over her complicated surname. The girl nodded in response, walking a little closer but stopping when I was joined by Shouto, who had suddenly appeared by my side.

"I'm not really sure what you mean by that…" I muttered, meeting Yaoyorozu's gaze as I addressed her. "I wasn't trying to make assumptions about anyone's character- I'd just like to get home, and I thought in the meantime I'd point out that declaring 'war' on us does nothing but build tension." The girl scoffed, and despite myself I made a face- what was her _deal?_

"Don't worry about it, Yaoyorozu, she's a friend." Shinso said lazily, waving her away with a hand, to which the girl glared disdainfully.

"You know him?" Shouto remarked from my side. I met his gaze from the corner of my eyes, shrugging.

"I know his name." I replied easily. "We met at the gym."

"How nice." Yaoyorozu snipped, folding her arms across her chest. The two of us were now in identical stances.

"I see…" Shouto murmured, his mismatched eyes combing over Shinso in an almost embarrassingly obvious way. Shouto, however, being a reserved individual, caught himself; adjusting his bag on his shoulder, he cleared his throat and patted me casually on the back. "See you tomorrow." he said softly. The next second he was parting the crowd, making his way through the gaggle of new rivals.

"Who's that?" Shinso asked, still sounding bored even when asking a genuine question. I pursed my lips.

"A friend of mine." I replied. The more I spoke, the more sour Yaoyorozu appeared. For the life of me, I could not determine what it was that was making our interactions so difficult. "Will you please let us out of our classroom now."

"Do as you like," Shinso muttered, and as he spoke I noticed the students slowly begin to disperse, though Katsuki still insisted on brutally pushing through what few students still remained. I rolled my eyes as they called after him angrily- it was like he was determined to make enemies.

"What're you doing?" Shinso asked, turning on his heel to follow me as I brushed past him.

"Uh… Going home…" I replied, feeling Yaoyorozu's eyes on the back of my neck. "Why?"

"I was going to go train."

"Good for you."

"You should come." he said. It sounded less like an invite and more like a command.

"Um…"

"You can go home first." he continued, ignoring the fact that I was clearly on the fence. "I'll text you."

Despite his persistence, his behavior was not over eager at all. In fact, he still seemed bored. He was a fucking mystery.

"You don't have my number."

"Yes, I do." he replied airily. I shot him a look of confusion as we stepped out of UA, the late afternoon sun blaring down on us from where it peeked out from behind the UA front gates. "You gave it to me."

"No, I didn't." I insisted. He chuckled; I had previously been unaware that a laugh could could so disinterested.

"Yes, you did." he replied with his back to me. I had stopped walking, waiting for an explanation of some kind before I made my way home. "You asked me to show me my Quirk."

"Is your Quirk the ability to get anybody's cell phone number without asking?" I said snarkily, readjusting my schoolbag haughtily as I turned on my heel to go. He met my gaze over his shoulder, shooting me a small smirk as we parted ways.

"Something like that."

* * *

"Do you really think that you're going to do well in the festival if you keep neglecting your Quirk like this?"

Shinso's voice broke through my concentration, which had been focussed on making sure that my arms did not buckle as I completed my fiftieth pushup. My upper body strength- although fairly average- was something that I had always harbored a small desire to improve; and, since my father was returning my silent treatment with equal iciness, I figured that now was as good a time as ever to pour all of my efforts into strengthening myself.

"It's not like I don't know how to use it," I grunted out my reply as my chest hit the ground, sending up a small puff of dirt. I winced, both from the pressure of the ground against my chest as well as my tiny white lie to Shinso. _Did_ I know how to use my Quirk? "I've been using my Quirk since I was four, just like you."

"Hm…" was Shisno's simple reply; he did not sound convinced. "What _is_ your Quirk, exactly?" he murmured, drawing closer to where I lay on the ground. "I've never seen you use it."

"I could say the same for you," I retorted. I stood up swiftly- too swiftly, judging by the headrush I received- dusting the dirt from the front of my shirt in an attempt to ignore the sudden tension that surrounded me. "You've never talked about your Quirk to me…"

"Does it matter?" the purple haired boy replied, shrugging his shoulders boredly. "It's not like I'm in the hero class… Yet…" I arched an eyebrow incredulously.

"Someone sure seems confident in himself." I muttered as I stood, brushing off the front of my shirt. The longer we talked for, the more I found myself questioning why I had come here. Shinso and I were not close, despite our brief interaction the other day. What on Earth had brought me here? Curiosity?

Shinso was wearing a smirk that I found very annoying, though not quite so annoying as Katsuki's. Katsuki's smirk always stunk of a crippling superiority complex that I found I had very little patience for; Shisno, on the other hand, smirked with a reserved smugness that told me he had worked hard and, despite his lackadaisical attitude, he looked forward to showing the fruits of his labor.

"I failed to get into the heroics class because I couldn't do well on the entrance exam with a Quirk like mine," he began, his tone deep and flat as usual. "I'm in general education because of that…"

"That doesn't mean you can't become a hero." I reminded him. He glanced in my direction, his lazy purple eyes giving me a once-over before continuing.

"Like I said before, based on the results of the sports festival, people like me can come under review and be transferred into heroics."

As he said this, his eyes locked with mine. The tension between us pressed in on me from all sides; I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable.

"That means we're rivals- but that's not to say that we can't help each other out in the meantime."

My eyes travelled down, away from Shinso's gaze. Instead I stared at my palms, which were covered in a mix of dirt and sweat; I pursed my lips bitterly at the dirt mixed with the salty liquid escaping from my skin.

I knew what Shinso was getting at- despite my obvious social ineptitude, I was not clueless when it came to declarations of war. While Shinso and I were friendly, Katsuki and Shouto had taught me early on that friendliness did you no favors when it came to becoming the number one hero- or even just a good hero.

The sudden reminder of Todoroki Shouto's existence sent a soft heat through my body which was as frustrating as it was welcomed. The truth was that I had missed my class almost more than I could bear; my pride would not allow me to admit that there were a choice few who I had missed most of all.

"So…"

Shinso's lazy drawl drew me out of my musings, bringing my attention back to him. Our eyes met again, and his shoulders bobbed ever so slightly with what I could only assume was a subtle chuckle.

"Are you going to keep dicking around, or are you gonna train for real and give me a run for my money at the festival?"

I sneered, Shinso's goading kindling a small fire within me that I had not felt since my fight with my father the week before.

"You're gonna wish you never asked."

The two of us stood stoically across from one another, preparing for whatever spar was soon to come. In the back of my mind, an obvious nervousness had begun to claw its way to the forefront of my consciousness. If I wanted to, I could control Shinso to do whatever I wanted him to. At least, that was the impression that my father had given me the last time we had spoken. If that happened, if I _did_ control Shinso, it could lead to his death.

What if I lost control like I had that time in the USJ? What if I lost my cool and before I knew it, I was contorting Shinso's body to my will like putty? That would be the end- for me, and for Shinso.

"Well, come on," Shinso drawled, hands in his pockets. "Let's see this Quirk of yours."

I pursed my lips, and with a soft grunt I lifted my arms upwards, bringing several chunks of rock away from the ground simultaneously. I could already feel the sweat prickling against my skin, and I quickly found myself wondering if I had already infected Shinso with my Quirk. My guess was that in all likelihood I had.

I allowed my arms to fall loosely against my side, spinning my body casually as my hands whipped through the air. One, two, three chunks of rock I sent spitting through the air in Shinso's direction. His eyes, wide with surprise while still somehow retaining a definite hint of boredom, darted left and right before he dodged the first rock. He rolled across the dirt, little puffs of dust rising from the ground to meet the first chunk of rock as it fell into the ground in the same spot where Shinso had been a moment earlier.

I frowned slightly, whipping my right arm lazily through the air as I directed the second hunk of earth toward Shinso's new location. He dodged again, though I could tell that he was having trouble keeping up. I sent the third rock towards him, watching carefully as he made his move to dodge. With a swift gesture from my left hand I thwarted his escape attempt, bringing a wall of dirt up to block his escape route.

A soft _oof!_ escaped his lips as his face landed in the dirt with a splat. The resulting glower was difficult to take seriously, since his face was covered in dirt. Despite myself I left out a snort of laughter, which only served to deepen Shinso's expression of distaste.

"So you control dirt, huh…" he said thoughtfully as he stood up again. He tried to wipe off his face, but the light sweat that had broken out following our brief spar made that difficult. "Elemental Quirks are good for heroics, I guess…"

I shrugged, content to allow his personal musings to continue while I turned my own attention elsewhere. My blue eyes, glistening in the low evening light, fell on a patch of weeds which had cropped up in the middle of the dirt-covered training ground. My eyes darted briefly to Shinso, who was toeing the now lifeless chunks of earth apprehensively, and then came back to the weeds. Curiosity pulled at my fingers, and without thinking I had turned my concentration entirely onto the weeds, which were no larger than my pinky nail.

Slowly, carefully, I lifted a single hand, moving my hand and fingers in a manner reminiscent of a jellyfish as I tugged at the small patch of weeds with my consciousness. They immediately began to move- at first just a small twitch, followed by a more graceful ebb and flow as the plants began to dance to and froe, growing slightly larger with each movement I made with my hand.

A smile broke out across my face- this wasn't bad at all! I watched with glee as the plants grew in height, and I soon was moving my hands in a twirling, upward motion. The plants mimicked my movements, growing ever upwards, dancing closer and closer towards the sky. Before I knew it I was laughing, dancing around the plants as my arms played gracefully above my head; the plants were now taller than I was.

"Uh… Daichi…" Shinso's voice, once again, broke through my concentration. "What are you doing?"

I whipped around to face him, allowing my arms to dance limply around around my head as I spun my body to face him. The plants twisted around me, mixing with the small rocks that had begun to float along with the plants, which were now twisting through the air as though they were vines and not weeds. I smiled broadly.

"Shinso, look!" I called from my place across the training ground. He was staring at me, his expression somewhere between his usual blank expression, and shock. "I thought it'd be a disaster to control something living- but look! It's fine! I can make it do whatever I want!"

"Daichi, you should be careful…" I heard Shinso murmur from his place opposite me. He no longer looked bored; he looked very serious. "Controlling things like this is-"

"What's your problem?" I snapped, dropping my arms to my side and making my way towards him. The weed vines followed me, twirling around me without my direction. "I'm just having fun- it's fine, isn't it?"

"Ok, so your Quirk isn't controlling dirt- I get it." Shinso assured me. His tone of voice was concerning me. "It seems like this part of it is pretty new to you… My Quirk is similar. Why don't you cool it with the plants, we can-"

"Why is everyone treating this like it's dangerous?" I protested, not bothering to pay attention as the vines began to whip around to reflect my anger. "It's going fine, nothing bad is happening!" Shinso's lips pursed into a thin, grim line.

"Check again, Daichi." he said calmly.

I froze, realizing that the air around me was no longer stirring with the movement of the weeds. My eyes met Shinso's gaze; his expression had not changed, and yet, in his eyes, I could see that he was taking me very seriously, now. Tearing my eyes away from him I slowly began to turn in place, my peachy hair ruffling in the small evening breeze that only served to deepen the intensity of the situation.

When I finished turning around, my smile was no longer present. My eyes, previously filled with the joy I had felt from observing my Quirk in action, now felt hot with tears. A pile of withered, browning vines met my gaze; the corpses of what had been that small pile of weeds just moments ago now littered the training ground, crisp dead leaves shifting in the cool wind. I let out a breath, though it came out of my lips as a choke as a tear spilled down my cheek.

A comforting hand arrived on my shoulder, Shinso's grip on me tightening as he realized that I was in tears. A mixture of shame and guilt filled me, an ailment that Shinso's presence- or anyone's, for that matter- could do little to improve.

"You good?"

Despite myself I let out a scathing choke. Tearing my teary eyes away from the plant cemetery in front of me, my watery blue eyes met the stern purple gaze of the boy standing beside of me. I opened and closed my mouth- I imagined that I looked quite like a fish out of water- but was unable to get a word out.

"My Quirk is mind control, Daichi." Shinso said finally, his gaze moving away from mine to come to rest on the ruined plants in front of me. So, that was how he had gotten a phone number out of me. "Controlling another living being is a dangerous game. I know that better than most."

"I didn't… I…" My stammer was little more than a pathetic, watery whisper. Shinso simply nodded knowingly.

"Having a Quirk like ours is intimidating, and it's easy to be misunderstood." Shinso said softly. His hand on my shoulder was suddenly guiding me away from the dead plants, and off of the training grounds. My body, numb with shock, could do little to resist. "They're dangerous, Quirks like ours."

"What if that had been a person?" I whispered finally, staring over at him desperately. "Shinso, they would be dead…"

"Like I said: Controlling another living thing is a dangerous game." he repeated, his tone still serious.

I nodded sadly, feeling more and more at a loss as to what to do. I looked up at him again, and to my astonishment I found a ghost of a smile tainting his expression.

"But, it's also just as you said: That doesn't mean you can't still be a hero."

* * *

By the time I arrived home, the sun had begun to set. The inside of my house was warm and inviting, suggesting that my father was cooking. Letting out a heavy sigh, I allowed my gym bag to fall to the floor in the hallway by the door as I removed my shoes. I crinkled my nose, cracking open the door to toss them onto the concrete steps that led to the entrance of the home my father and I shared; they stank to high heaven.

The warm pads of my feet pitter-pattered down the wood floors of the hallway. The closer that I got to the kitchen, the warmer it became. Halfway down the hall I paused abruptly, my eyes widening as noises made their way to my ears- someone else was here, someone who was not my father. The deep, loud laugh that erupted a moment later solved the mystery of just who it was who was apparently joining us for dinner.

It was All Might.

It was a raucous laughter that I would recognize anywhere. In fact, I doubted that there was anyone currently in attendance at UA that would not recognize his iconic guffaw. While the sheer volume of it was something that I sometimes found to be off putting, there was something about this gesture of All Might's that never failed to put me at ease. It was truly the laugh of a person who lived to help others, who cared for others; it was the laugh of a hero. That was, possibly, the thing I most admired about All Might.

I had never quite been able to grasp the power dynamics of men- or the dynamics of most people, for that matter- but I was certain that my father, for whatever reason, had never been so fond of All Might. This begged the question: what the hell was All Might doing at our house for dinner? I tiptoed to the end of the hallway, peering around the corner into the kitchen carefully in order to assess the situation.

My father stood beside the counter, deftly chopping scallions into small rounds. He faced away from All Might, who was gazing around the common area of our home with an expression of extreme satisfaction. My father's expression, even though it was still masked by layers of bandage, I could tell was one of annoyance.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take care of that?"

The booming voice of All Might made me jump a little where I stood at the end of the hallway. My father flinched, peering over his shoulder only briefly before continuing his cutting.

"That's quite alright," my father mumbled, scraping the scallions into a small bowl and setting down the knife. "I was done, anyways."

"Excellent." All Might replied jovially. My father set down the bowl of scallions on the table, where a pot of sukiyaki sat steaming. Despite myself, my mouth began to water. "Now, where is-"

"Daichi is already here." my father said with a tired sigh. My heart jumped, realizing too late that I had been foolish to think that I had entered unnoticed. "Are you going to come out, Daichi, or are you going to keep skulking in the hall?"

I grimaced, my cover clearly having been blown since the moment I stepped in the door. Slowly, guiltily, I slid out into the kitchen, clutching the wall like a lost child. I bit my lip, meeting my father's gaze from between his bandages where he stood at the stove. All Might's smile, juxtaposed with my father's displeasure, was quite a sight to see.

"Mom, Dad," I muttered sarcastically, nodding to the both of them. "I'm home."

* * *

 **hello all!**

 **so sorry for the delay on this. i have been very busy with summer classes, as well as work and i moved homes. thanks for your patience and continued support! i'm hoping that next chapter i can finally dive into the sports festival arc!**

 **i was very excited to introduce Momo in this chapter as a potential rival and a member of the Gen Ed course. since this is slightly AU, due to her not being in 1-A, i thought it could be interesting to still have her around but in a very different way from canon. to be frank, i never really understood how she got into the hero course with recommendations- her fighting skills i thought had a lot of potential (since her Quirk is useful) but they never really seemed to work out well for her.**

 **i also was really excited to develop Daichi and Shinso's friendship, because i felt like with her new-found Quirk nature being the way it is, he can offer a lot of insight and it will develop into an important and interesting friendship.**

 **as always favorite, follow, review and let me know your thoughts! thank you to everyone for your continued enthusiasm, critiques, and support!**


	9. Panic

_"Whether you win or lose... You can always come out ahead by learning from the experience."_

* * *

There were several— extremely legitimate— reasons for me to be completely befuddled by the presence of All Might in my kitchen.

First of all, All Might was the number one Pro Hero in the nation— maybe even in the world. Despite his teaching position at UA bringing a more casual feel to our relationship, I feel that I may be in danger of beating a dead horse if I were to go into detail about why this factored into my confusion.

Second of all, All Might and my father— Eraserhead— did not get along. To be fair, my father, being a notorious curmudgeon, was notorious for not getting along with most people. All of that aside, being the person who knew my father the best out of anyone else, I was extremely privy to his feelings and private thoughts at any given moment, even if he did not choose to explicitly share them with me. I could tell that he harbored feelings of disdain towards All Might; I would even go so far as to say the mere presence of the Number One hero made my father very uncomfortable.

Taking all of this into account, the sight of my father cooking amidst a steamy kitchen filled with various fragrances of beef and mirin was most certainly not what I had expected to come home to. My blue eyes darted around the small kitchen, passing over my father's gaze to come to rest on All Might, whose enormous chest seemed to take about about three quarters of our kitchen space.

"Mom, dad, I'm home," I said sarcastically, doing my best to shirk my discomfort about the situation in favor of taunting humor.

My father did not look the least bit amused; contrastingly, All Might let out a booming laugh, one which shook the broth in the sukiyaki hot pot that sat in the middle of the kitchen table.

"Don't worry, Eraserhead," he chortled, clapping my father on the back; a noticeable wince escaped my father, and yet somehow All Might remained completely oblivious. "I will be the mother!"

"Please," my father mumbled darkly as he placed a small dish of scallions on the table. "Don't do that."

"Ah, I apologize," All Might said, gazing at his palms. "I forget myself sometimes- you're injured, of course…"

"No," my father replied darkly, shooting a glower in All Might's direction. "I meant please don't even joke about being my spouse."

My eyes widened, and I choked slightly on my own breath as I fought back laughter. These two men could not be anymore opposite from each other. My father, in response to my choking laughter, stopped glaring at All Might and instead aimed an angry look in my direction; I ignored this, instead choosing to fill a bowl with the sukiyaki that sat steaming in the middle of the table. I picked out a spoon, dropping it unceremoniously into my bowl before moving towards the living room.

"Ah, young Aizawa," All Might boomed after me from the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him reach for a bowl, which my father deftly swiped from the table just before he could grab it. "I had come here in the hopes of talking to you."

I paused, setting down my bowl on the coffee table before turning around to look at the Pro hero standing in my kitchen. My father, who was now gingerly slurping sukiyaki near the counter, did not meet my eyes as I gazed in his direction for further clarification.

"What about?" I murmured, my dinner steaming quietly behind me, forgotten on the tabletop. All Might moved through the kitchen, coming to a stop just in front of me.

"How about we go for a short walk?" he said. I arched an eyebrow, again looking to my father, who did nothing. "I'll have you back here before your dinner is cold!"

"Alright…" I murmured, stepping out of the living room.

All Might beamed, patting me heavily on the back as he escorted me down the hall towards the front door. I peered nervously over my shoulder, my blue eyes seeking out my father in the now dim light of the kitchen. He was not looking at me, but was instead gazing at something that he was holding in his hand, which I could not see from my position in the hallway. The door shut behind us with a slam that was probably louder than necessary.

The cool evening breeze washed over me, which was a welcomed relief in comparison to the humid heat of the kitchen, courtesy of the sukiyaki hot pot. All Might continued to walk down the sidewalk which passed by several other small houses, which belonged to other UA staff members. I found myself wondering if All Might, too, lived on campus. I glanced up at him, but his expression quickly silenced my curiosity; he did not look happy.

"Um… All Mi-"

"Young Aizawa," All Might boomed, cutting me off mid sentence. I pressed my lips together, a ball of nervousness rising in my throat while my stomach churned unhappily in my belly. "I have been talking to your father, recently…"

"O-oh…" I whispered, still not quite sure where he was going with this. "Sorry, I'm not sure-"

"He told me that the true nature of your Quirk has been revealed." he said, again cutting me off while I was speaking.

I flushed, a panicked fluttering attacking my heart when I heard his words. I could not quite pinpoint the exact reason that I was nervous- I couldn't get in trouble for my Quirk, could I? The thought suddenly began to run rampant in my mind. What if they decided that I was too dangerous to continue educating?

"Worry not, Young Aizawa." All Might said finally, his voice now much softer than it had been before. I stopped walking, gazing up at him with confusion. He smiled, lowering himself in order to talk to me; I felt like a five year old. "I do not come here tonight on official business- rather, I come here to extend support to you!"

"Oh… Okay…" I muttered, still feeling very confused.

All Might and I, as per he and my father's relationship, had barely exchanged words before now. Thus, his sudden offer to be a 'shoulder to lean on', so to speak, came as quite a surprise. I knew that I was being rude, even though I was trying my best not to show my immense confusion on my face, I knew that I was failing miserably.

All Might seemed to notice this, and with a knowing sigh he straightened himself and marched over to a bench that stood just beside the sidewalk. He sat down heavily, patting the small empty space next to him, signaling that he wanted me to sit with him. I held back an annoyed expression. He's trying to be nice, I told myself.

"I know that it must be scary, to learn that your Quirk is not what you first thought." he began again, his tone of voice still very serious. I said nothing, suddenly becoming very interested in my fingernails. "Perhaps your father isn't my biggest fan-" I snorted; All Might shot me a look. "Perhaps we do not get along so well, but when he told me what had happened I felt that as your teacher, and your peer, it would not be right for me to sit idly by without coming to show you my support, and offer my help."

I nodded dumbly, still not really understanding the point of this talk, or what I should say in reply. Glancing up from my place next to him, my face slightly hidden by my unruly cream-colored hair, I still could not guess his motives based on the expression he now wore. It seemed as though he was wearing an expression that looked almost nostalgic, and I found myself suddenly very curious to know what it was that he was remembering.

"I'm sure that you're worried…" he began again, turning his head to look down at me. "I cannot blame you for being so. But please do not fret about becoming like your mother— you two are not the same people."

My eyes widened, and I felt for just a moment that my heart had stopped. All Might was still gazing down at me intently, his eyes fixated on me from high above; he was about to talk to me about my mother. I breathed in deeply, trying my best to stay calm. Obviously All Might was unaware that my father rarely spoke about my mother. I didn't even know her name. If All Might were to discover this, he would surely stop talking about it. I knew that I had to act as though what he was saying was no great shock to me. Finally, just as I could feel All Might begin to grow concerned, I nodded.

"Yes…" I whispered, struggling to keep my voice steady. "I'm worried… About becoming like her…"

All Might nodded knowingly, patting me on the back in an attempt to comfort me. I stared down at the ground, my eyes wide, as I waited for the next piece of information.

"Your mother was an amazing hero, Young Aizawa!" he declared as he ruffled my hair.

I glared at the ground, not quite appreciating the gesture but tolerating it for the sake of gaining information. The more time I spent with him, the more certain I grew that the number one Pro Hero All Might may also be one of the cheesiest people that I had ever met.

"But, you know, she was also a very sad person, your mother." he continued solemnly. I stayed silent beside him, my eyes trained on the ground as I focussed on his words, and keeping my heartbeat steady. "Your Quirks may be similar, but I know that you would not use it the way she did. That's why I say not to worry. Even though your mother eventually became the very thing that she had been fighting, you should not worry that sharing her Quirk will somehow lead you to the same fate."

My breath caught in my throat. My mother… She had been a villain…? I could hardly believe what All Might was saying- and yet, in the back of my mind, I felt a faint affirmation stir. I knew something… Something that, if All Might could confirm it, would get me one step closer to accepting his words, and finding out the truth. The newspaper clipping that I had discovered weeks ago flashed across my mind:

VILLAIN DA-TENSHI DEFEATED BY NO. 1 HERO ALL MIGHT! PRO HERO SHIGARAKI IZANAMI STILL M.I.A.

Exerting every effort that I had to remain calm, I sat up a little straighter, and turned to look at All Might. I hoped that the expression that I had chosen conveyed some sort of confidence, something that would convince him that I was not shocked beyond all belief right in that moment. The Pro Hero gazed down at me, nodding.

"That's right…" I murmured, my voice shaking despite my efforts. "My mother… She was Shigaraki Izanami, right?"

"Your mother was many things." he assured me. "None of us who know the truth will ever remember her as a villain… No…" His voice was soft, a little sad, and I saw him glance over at my house, where my father was waiting for us, still. "We all choose to remember her as who she truly was: the hero Heaven's Gate."

This time, I was sure that my heart really did stop. I let out a puff of air, an exasperated sigh. Who would have thought that the truth that I had craved for fourteen years, the questions that my father had constantly refused me, would be handed over on a silver platter to me by All Might?

The two of us parted ways after that. I waved to All Might numbly from the stoop of my house as he shuffled back towards the UA school buildings, seeming content in his effort to comfort me in my time of need. I watched his figure as it faded into the darkness, before lowering my arm. A thousand questions raced through my mind as I watched All Might walk away. He said that my Quirk and my mother's were similar… But my father had told me that she had had a Warp Quirk — what did that mean? More importantly, what was her connection to Da-Tenshi? And, if there was one, was Da-Tenshi still alive?

It had been All Might who had been responsible for my mother's disappearance: I knew that much to be true, now. I wondered vaguely if that bit of information had anything to do with my father's obvious contempt for the man. I quelled the feelings of anger that I felt rising within me: All Might was a hero, and my mother had been a villain. He was only doing his job.

I turned around, away from the vanishing All Might in the distance, and reached for the doorknob behind me. Suddenly, something rushed into the forefront of my mind, something that I had forgotten until that moment- something that made a cold sweat break out across my entire body. My blue eyes moved down, gazing at my outstretched hand; it was shaking.

The name of the villain who I had wounded was Shigaraki Tomura. He had my mother's surname… And he had known me. The villains first words to me replayed in my mind's eye: _"I thought you looked familiar…"_

And then I was running. I was running away from my father, away from my problems, away from my mother. The evening air moved past me quickly, ruffling my hair as I ran. It was chilly, and the cool air stung my eyes. Tears began to spill down my cheeks, which I blamed on the cold, but it was a sorry cover story if I had ever heard one.

I had no idea who I was anymore. My mother had died a villain- a villain who had a Quirk similar to mine. My father, a washed up Pro Hero, had hidden this important detail from me for years— in fact, when I had questioned him about her, he had even lied to me about the nature of her Quirk. And then there was Shigaraki Tomura, the leader of the League of Villains that somehow seemed to know who I was- who seemed to have met me before.

I had no idea what I was supposed to do about the multitude of problems- of truths- that had decided to come crashing down on me all at once. And then, suddenly, by some miracle, the only voice I had been wanting to hear broke through my panicked thoughts.

"Daichi?"

I stopped running immediately, turning around slowly in the direction from which the voice had come. Standing on the sidewalk, near a street crossing, was none other than Todoroki Shouto. His hands were dug deep into his pockets- I blushed slightly, realizing that I had never seen him out of his school uniform. His mismatched eyes regarded me in a manner that suggested he was both confused and concerned. When I did not start running again, Shouto walked toward me, ignoring the crosswalk sign as it changed from STOP to GO.

"What are you doing?" he asked softly, stopping when he was only a few inches away from me. I was still breathing heavily, and I felt the sweat drip down my spine. When I didn't answer, I felt his palm press against my back, and he leaned in closer. "Hey… Hey, are you listening?"

"I…" I choked out.

My voice was little more than a whisper. Shouto arched an eyebrow, searching my eyes for some kind of explanation for my behavior. I swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling very thirsty. My eyes seemed to be darting all over the place; I could not focus on anything for very long. My heart beat loudly in my ears, and I felt as though I were swimming in sweat.

"Shouto… Shouto someth-something… Is wr-wrong…"

"Daichi, I think you're having a panic attack." Shouto said sternly.

I let out a whimper, which I had meant to be a response of some kind, but instead I was stuck only being able to emit pathetic little half-noises as a means of communication. Without warning I felt my legs swing out from under me, and I realized that Shouto had scooped me into his arms.

"You and your old man live on campus, right?" He spoke calmly, but in the depths of his eyes I could see concern. "Let's get you home-"

"No!" I squeaked, abandoning my embarrassment.

I knew I was being childish, and pathetic. Shouto gazed down at me, his eyes searching mine for some kind of explanation. When I was unable to oblige, he sighed lightly, nodding in understanding.

"Alright…" he said at last, turning and walking in the direction opposite of the UA campus. "Let's go home, then."

* * *

The Todoroki family estate was certainly something to be marveled at. I, however, was not given much time to do so. No sooner had we crossed the threshold of the front door, Shouto shoved me up the stairs, pushing against my back roughly with his palms as we walked. I stumbled, tripping up the unfamiliar stairs, my legs still feeling slightly gelatinous from my earlier emotional breakdown.

"Shouto!"

A booming voice broke out across the empty room that lay beyond the front door. I paused momentarily, glancing at Shouto, who had also stopped moving. His expression was something of a mystery- falling, perhaps, somewhere between the realm of annoyance and exasperation. His eyes slid forward as heavy steps inched closer, but darted back towards the front hallway once he realized that I was staring at him.

"Shouto, is that you?" the booming voice repeated, sounding closer this time.

I could not help but think that voice was somehow reminiscent of All Might, though it was strangely lacking a certain intangible quality that, however unnamable, All Might certainly possessed. Shouto, spurred by the advancing voice, once again began to push me up the stairs, glowering heavily as we rounded the corner just in time to hear the footsteps stop at the base of the stairs.

"Who-?" I whispered as Shouto opened a door, to what I could only guess was his room. Shouto rolled his eyes, and shook his head.

"My old man, obviously," he muttered.

The door shut behind him with a click. I glanced around briefly, not shocked that his room was fairly bare of decoration- I very much doubted that this place felt like home to Shouto, and thus his room curiously lacked the typical 'lived in' feel of a young teen's childhood bedroom. I flushed; I was alone with him in his bedroom. This, I had not expected.

"You can have the bed." he said softly, pulling a comforter and some pillows out of a closet and laying them on the floor. "It's late…"

"Your dad won't come up here?" I asked softly, still not wanting to raise my voice too much. Shouto shook his head, though I caught him glancing nervously at his door as he did so.

"No." he said stiffly.

I nodded, giving the room another once-over from my place on the edge of Shouto's bed. My eyes finally came to rest on a desk in the far corner, upon which rested a computer; my heart leapt. My eyes darted from the computer, to Shouto, and then back to the computer again, until—

"Do you need to look something up?" Shouto blurted, his eyebrows raised curiously at my odd behavior. I blushed, again.

"S-sorry…" I murmured, biting the inside of my cheek anxiously. "Do you mind?"

"If I minded you being here, or using my things, you would not be here at all." he assured.

I held in a soft chuckle, watching fondly as a light blush came to Shouto's cheeks out of the corners of my eyes. Like me, Shouto seemed to lack the delicate charm required for comforting, or perhaps I would go so far as to say for social interaction in general. Although many of our classmates were quirky, too be sure, Shouto and I likely experienced the most difficulty with communicating well with our peers; our social skills seemed a little worse for lack of use.

The bottoms of my feet padded softly across the hardwood floor of Shouto's bedroom as I made my way toward the computer desk. Shouto kept his spot on the floor, peeling open a graphic novel that I did not recognize as I sat down at the desk. I shook the mouse, and the screen brightened.

I bit my lip nervously; what was I looking for? I stared blankly at the search engine home page, fingertips shaking nervously as they hovered just above the keyboard. How silly of me, to have thought that this would be so simple.

"Do you need help?"

Despite myself, I jumped. As quietly as could be humanly possible, Shouto had made his way from his makeshift bed at the floor, to a spot directly behind me. He leaned down, replacing my hand on the mouse with his own and clicking within the box on the search engine; I turned to look at him, our eyes meeting. I could feel his breath on my face.

"What did you want to search?" he asked. I breathed in sharply. A light tapping met my ears as Shouto readied himself to type. I breathed in one long, shaking breath before replying.

"Shigaraki… Izanami…"

Shouto paused, his eyes falling on my face briefly. Then, he hit enter.

* * *

 **So sorry for the long absence! been very busy with school and work commitments. I'm hoping to get to do some more work on this story over the summer, so hang tight! this chapter is really a jumping off point before I dive into the next arc of the series, so bare with me~ as usual, reviews are always appreciated and thanks a million for all of you who have followed this story!**


	10. Intensity

" _When there's nothing to be gained, rising to the challenge at those times is surely the mark of a true hero!"_

* * *

My father and I had a tense relationship, to say the very least. This was true especially recently, what with his insistence that I stay home twenty-four-seven, and I could only assume that, deep down, he was hoping that I would back out of the school sports festival. The tenseness between my father and I, however, paled in comparison to the cold interactions between Shouto and his father, the Pro-hero known as Endeavor.

I sipped a cup of hot tea quietly from the opposite end of the table. Endeavor — whose birth name was Enji, I had learned — and Shouto sat quietly at the other end of the table, not looking at each other. Endeavor had been staring at me quite a bit, apparently at a loss as to how I had gotten here, or even how long I had been here, not to mention the lingering mystery about exactly who I was. Shouto's demeanor since arriving at the table rivaled his Quirk in iciness, and his behavior had caused a seemingly unbreakable silence to fall over the breakfast table.

Ignoring Endeavor's gaze I turned my eyes downward toward my lap, where a thick packet of paper, carefully stapled in the upper lefthand corner, sat gingerly on top of my thighs. A familiar face, albeit in black-and-white due to lack of colored printer ink, stared up at me. This was a face that I knew well: the face of Shigaraki Izanami, my mother. Shouto and I had spent an hour or so scrolling through the results for my mother that had turned up on the search engine, and had printed most everything that looked promising. I bit my lip, staring more determinedly into the printed eyes of my mother. It was troubling: we had found nothing on the internet about her days as a villain.

"You're the child of Eraserhead, aren't you?"

A gruff voice broke my concentration. I was startled, spilling my tea ever so slightly, the still steaming liquid slapping languidly against the tabletop. I averted my eyes from the papers in my lap, dragging them away from my thighs to rest on the hulking man across the table from me. His voice was almost familiar, like All Might if he were a pessimist, and also a little bit rude. Orange and crimson flames licked around Todoroki Enji's face, his bright blue eyes almost glowering at me from his place next to Shouto. I bit my lip, glancing sideways in Shouto's direction for help; I received none.

"Ah… Yes. I'm Aizawa Daichi," I replied slowly, trying my best to not let my voice shake. "How did you know that?"

"You don't look like him almost at all," he replied quickly, pushing his plate away. His glare shifted to his son briefly as he moved, but it did not remain there. "I only recognize you because you're the spitting image of your mother." I froze, and so did Shouto. "Hard to forget a face like hers."

"You knew my mother?" I said softly, my eyes now defiantly locked with his. "When?"

"Is your Quirk like your father's, or your mother's?" Endeavor pressed, ignoring my earlier question. I shifted uncomfortably, starting to feel a little annoyed. "Or a mixture of the two?"

My eyes made their way over to Shouto, who had stopped eating. His eyes were now fixed uncomfortably on his father's hands, an icy glare maring his features. I knew enough about Pro heroes to know why Shouto looked the way that he did. Especially after meeting his father, without even meeting his mother it was as clear as the scar on his face why his hair was two different colors. I didn't even have to ask. Endeavor, on the other hand, felt the need to ask _me_.

"Well?" Endeavor repeated, his eyes darting from Shouto to myself.

"My mother's." I answered finally. Endeavor relaxed a little, apparently satisfied with my answer. "I don't have my father's Quirk. I'm pretty sure that mine more closely resembles my mother's."

"That's a shame," Endeavor replied, getting up from the table abruptly. "If a Quirk like Izanami's were to combine with Shouta's, that would be… Incredible…" I raised an eyebrow; this guy was something else.

* * *

It was a crisp weekend morning as Shouto and I left his home after breakfast. Shouto lead the way, not looking back at his home as he made to escort me back to mine. I glanced over my shoulder, catching the figure of Endeavor in the doorway as we rounded the corner. I did not envy Shouto's living situation in the slightest, although I had to admit I was growing more and more curious about it. I had seen no sign nor heard any mention of his mother. I wondered vaguely if Shouto was like me, and had lost his mother. Turning back toward Shouto, watching his two-toned hair shift in the morning breeze, I reminded myself that there was more than one way of losing a mother.

"Which way?"

We had walked the entirety of the way in a stale silence until that point. Shouto had stopped just past the entrance of UA, where the path branched out in several directions. Straight ahead lead into the halls of the academy; to the left were the training grounds. I pursed my lips, not very much caring for inviting people into my own living situation, but knowing that to not do so could be detrimental to the fragile trust the two of us had built. I let out a small puff of air.

"Right," I replied, nodding in the direction of which I spoke. "To the right is where UA houses a lot of its staff, including my dad and I." Shouto nodded curtly, and then set off.

"Why didn't you tell me your dad was Endeavor?" I muttered over the pitter-patter of our shoes on the concrete. Shouto did not glance back at me.

"For the same reason you didn't tell me your old man was Eraserhead, I imagine." he said gruffly. I pressed my lips into a line, embarrassment churning in the pit of my stomach. Between my Quirk and my embarrassment, it was a marvel that I ever went a whole day without feeling queasy.

"Fair enough." I replied.

Up ahead my house was beginning to come into view. It was plain white brick, just like all the others that surrounded it. There were only a few, as plenty of the staff had their own living quarters. The green turf grass that covered much of the campus shifted in the breeze, and I stopped just short of my home. Realizing that I had stopped walking, Shouto stopped, too. He turned to me, his mismatched eyes grazing over me, half confused, and the rest something that I could not quite sort out at that time.

"You won't tell anyone about looking up my mom, will you?" I asked, my tone stony. Shouto nodded immediately in reply. "Thank you... For doing that with me..."

"We didn't really find what you were looking for, did we?" he said. I dropped my gaze. "Didn't find all that much, to be honest." I nodded, and he sighed. "Your mother seems like she was a really powerful hero... Even my old man seems to think so. As I'm sure you gathered from breakfast, he's a little tricky to impress." I let out a curt laugh; Shouto halfway smiled and halfway grimaced in response.

"You're nothing like him, you know," I said. I willed my feet to move forward, closing the distance between the two of us. "At... at least, from what I know about you, it doesn't seem like you are." My stammering only increased the churning feeling in my stomach as I fought to keep the pink from rising in my cheeks. Could my Quirk let me control my embarrassment? Shouto let out a curt laugh.

"That's why I'm such a disappointment."

A soft creak in the distance made my gaze shift to over Shouto's shoulder. My father's bandaged face had appeared on the small porch of our house. Despite the bandages, I could tell that he was royally pissed. I let out a long sigh, shifting my gaze back to Shouto's face. He nodded, somehow knowing what I had seen over his shoulder.

"He'll forgive you." he said softly, taking a step closer to me. "Aizawa-sensei is a tough guy, but I think he probably can't be as tough as he'd like to be with you."

"T-thank you," I stammered, mentally slapping myself for my social ineptitude. "I guess there's only one way to find out... Thanks again, for last night... And breakfast..."

"It was a terrible breakfast."

"The food was good!"

"Not good enough to be worth the company."

The two of us let out a soft, dry laugh together. It seemed that familial tensions were a common ground with the two of us. I glanced over his shoulder again, noticing my father becoming more impatient as time went on. With a shrug I let out another sigh, shifting my body to prepare to walk past Shouto. A soft tap on my shoulder made me stop; my eyes fluttered slightly as I looked at Shouto, whose face was now much closer to mine than I recalled it being before.

"Have him help you get ready for the festival," he murmured.

My eyes widened and my face flushed crimson as I felt his lips touch my forehead. I looked back up my heart beating more loudly than I remembered it ever have before. Shouto's face was, for the most part, just as stoic as ever. If I looked closely, though, I could see a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. I opened my mouth, letting out a small gasp despite my best efforts. I heard a low chuckle from his throat, but his facial expression barely changed.

"I won't go easy on you."

And with that Shouto marched past me, not bothering to look back to see the outrage in my father's eyes as he watched us from the porch. I did not look back at Shouto, either, instead starting toward my house where my father was waiting for me. Clumsily, still recovering from what had just happened, I made my way up the stairs. My father let out a low grunt of disapproval.

"I can't believe you idiots just did that in front of me," he said, folding his bandaged arms tighter across his chest. "You don't come home all night and this is what you make me put up with afterwards? No apology, just shady kisses in my front lawn?"

"Sorry, papa," I muttered, still attempting to recover from the feverish blush that coated my face. "I just... I needed to get out for a little while."

"Uh-hmm," he replied, clearly not having it. "Next time you want to get out, I'll take you to a movie."

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, grasping the papers that were folded there tightly. I had so many questions; the quick search that Shouto and I had done the night before on my mother, Shigaraki Izanami, had not revealed much. But it revealed enough to tell me that my father was, in this regard, a liar. I bit my tongue, willing myself to stay silent about it, for now. Now was not the time: now was the time to get ready to prove to my father that I was _not_ my mother.

"Papa," I said, finally allowing myself to speak. "I'm ready to train." My father scoffed.

"Train?" he replied sourly. "You come back after being gone without a word _all night_ and all you have to say is you want to train?" I nodded.

"Let me compete in the festival." I continued sternly. I met my father's eyes, willing myself not to blink. I needed to show him that I was serious. "I'm going to prove to you that I can handle my Quirk." I saw the bandages around where his mouth was shift slightly. He was smiling.

"And how do you plan to do that, exactly, you little truant?" This time, I smiled.

"I'm going to win."

* * *

The UA campus had been transformed from a school into a booming, buzzing fairground, only this fair was full of Pro heroes who I only really recognized from the news. My father and I would often watch those segments together after training: picture me eagerly slurping soba, eyes glued to the screen, while my father criticized their form and style, usually mumbling something about how young they were.

I had gone to the UA sports festival almost every year since my father had worked at the school. Truthfully, I had lost count of how many times I had been present to witness young heroes-in-the-making. Thinking back on my childhood days of watching in the stadium with my father, usually with a plethora of snacks that my father had reluctantly purchased for me, I found myself temporarily short of breath as I considered that now, this time, I would no longer just be watching.

The waiting room for class 1-A was crowded and noisy, about as hectic as I had expected for it to be. Tsuyu, Mina, and Mashirao were all sitting around a table in the center of the classroom as I entered, avidly discussing tactics with Ochaco. She stood by the table, listening eagerly with a look of pure determination on her face.

"Daichi!"

My presence was noticed almost immediately by Ochaco, who broke away from the group at the table and pranced over to me almost too quickly for my eyes to follow her. I let out a small yelp as she wrapped her arms around me tightly.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!"

"I see you in class, like, everyday," I replied, my voice raising at the end of my reply as if I were posing a question. Ochaco beamed.

"Yes! Yes! But I'm just so excited!" she said gleefully. "Aren't you?"

I smiled a small smile, still feeling a little tired from all of my training the night before. I wondered briefly whether or not I should have just taken it easy the night before the festival, but I forced myself to quickly pushed the worry from my mind.

"I guess so," I muttered as she pulled away from our hug. "Nervous, mostly."

My gaze shifted back towards the door, suddenly very aware of who had just entered the room. Todoroki Shouto shuffled into view, one hand perched lazily in his pocket as his eyes calmly surveyed his classmates. Our eyes locked briefly; I flushed, turning away as swiftly as I could. My cheeks continued to burn as I recalled our last interaction; my forehead was suddenly very tingly.

"Midoriya,"

I sighed, both relieved and disappointed that the first name out of his mouth had not been my own. Izuku perked up from his place by the lockers, shifting uncomfortably in his blue and red gym uniform as his eyes met Shouto's. Ochaco mimicked Izuku's movements, shifting nervously by my side as we watched the two boys approach one another.

"What is it, Todoroki?" Izuku responded shyly, his voice low but as level as one could have hoped for in such an obviously tense situation.

"On an objective basis, I think I'm above you in terms of objective strength," Shouto replied languidly.

I pursed my lips, suddenly finding myself becoming slightly annoyed as I realized that today was just going to be one long, painful pissing contest between all of the supposedly dominant males in the class. I held my tongue, not particularly desiring any sort of verbal tiff at present, but I could not help but internally meditate on the fact that none of the girls in our class were bothering with addressing one another in such a manner.

"Wha — Ah, yeah, I guess so…" Izuku said, apparently missing Shouto's point.

"You've managed to get All Might's eyes on you, right?" Shouto continued. I arched an eyebrow, finding myself becoming curious despite my annoyance. "I don't feel the need to pry too much into that, but… I'm going to beat you."

"Huh…" I murmured, noticing Katsuki's sudden, yet very apparent, annoyance. "Is this a declaration of war from one of the top students?"

As I spoke I let my eyes slide toward Katsuki, who looked more than ready to burst into flames right then and there. His inability to control his emotions would be his undoing in the festival, I was sure.

"What do you think you're doing?" Eijiro approached the two, reaching for Shouto but being half-heartedly rebuffed as Shouto moved his shoulder away from Eijiro's reach. "Don't do this right before the festival starts!"

"I'm not here to make friends," Shouto replied gruffly, not taking his eyes off of Izuku.

Despite myself, I snorted loudly; Shouto leaning in to kiss my forehead right in front of my father replayed for what felt like the thousandth time in my mind's eye. Shouto blushed, his eyes dancing toward and away from me in a flash. Ochaco glanced between the two of us with interest.

"But whatever." Shouto finished lamely.

Izuku opened his mouth to reply, but my attention was drawn away from a loud and sudden buzz that broke through the tense atmosphere from the room. I felt Ochaco squeeze my hand, and I allowed my gaze to slide over toward her briefly.

"Don't worry, Ochaco," I murmured, continuing to ignore Izuku and Shouto's conversation in the background. "It's time to go… It'll be over before you know it."

And just like that everyone in class 1-A was suddenly on the move, walking determinedly down the dimly lit hallway toward the festival stadium. Present Mic's voice boomed in the distance like some washed-up radio show host as our group moved gradually closer to the light at the end of the tunnel. I wondered briefly if this was what it was like to die.

"It's the Freshman stage!" Present Mic shouted. I squinted against the light as Ochaco and I emerged from the tunnel. "And the students are making their entry, now!"

"The UA sports festival! Where the hero world's little eggs aim for each other's throats, and the top! Our grand yearly melee! And let me guess: all you miscreants came to see them, right?" Cheers from the crowd offended my ears, and I winced ever so slightly from the combination of loud noises and bright lights. "The freshly-formed miracle stars that shrugged off a mass villain assault with wills of steel! The Department of Heroics' Freshman class!"

All of class 1-A was now out in the open, and I felt my stomach begin to churn as I realized that all eyes were on us. Ochaco had yet to let go of my hand, and to my right I could feel Shouto's eyes on me.

"You're all here for class 1-A, right?"

Another loud cheer from the crowd erupted as we came to a standstill in the center of the stadium. I glanced around, my eyes meeting the annoyed face of Shinso, who was giving the audience a deadpan gaze mixed with a little bit of disdain. My heart sunk as I realized the disappointment that I knew he must be feeling at that moment.

"Daichi, is your dad in the audience?" Ochaco muttered, not looking at me as she spoke. Her eyes were fixated on the crowd. I shook my head.

"No, he'll be with Present Mic —"

"Silence!"

I started, realizing with a jolt who was standing in front of us. Clad in her usual astonishing getup, the heroine Midnight stood on a platform, waving her whip around in a manner that was somehow simultaneously casual and domineering. I grimaced, suddenly even more nervous. If there was someone here that I wanted to impress, it was probably Midnight.

"Player rep: Bakugo Katsuki!" she continued, still shouting and waving her whip around haphazardly. I frowned; that was the last name I wanted coming out of her mouth.

"Eh?!" Izuku shouted from behind Ochaco and I, clearly taken aback. "Kacchan is our representative?"

"It makes sense," I responded, glancing over my shoulder to look at Izuku. "I heard he placed first in the entrance exam."

By this point Katsuki had ascended the stage, taking his place next to Midnight. She watched him coyly, and I could tell she did not give one single shit about what he had to say. She was here for the festivities and the showy-ness of her position as the conductor of the ceremony. Katsuki turned to face all of the rest of the students, including myself, his hands placed lazily in his blue and red pockets. His mouth twitched as he prepared to speak, and I felt my mouth press into a grimace. Whatever it was that he was planning to say, I knew that it was going to be the biggest, rudest disaster of a speech in UA history.

"I'm gonna place first."

" _Of course_ ," I muttered sourly, rolling my eyes as the rest of the students responded in an uproar.

"You'll all make fantastic stepping stones, I'm sure," Katsuki sneered, eyeing me pointedly at the mention of rocks as some other student in the crowd yelled what sounded like 'sludge fucker.'

And with that Katsuki had said his piece, removing himself from the stage as lazily as he had put himself there. He returned back into the crowd, breezing past Izuku dismissively as Izuku watched him, shock marring his features. For Izuku having apparently known Katsuki for so many years, it was actually shocking that he had expected anything less than this. I had known Katsuki only for a few short months, and I had already come to expect only blatant, borderline explosive rudeness from the fiery blonde.

"Alright, with that we can move directly to our first event!" Midnight continued, clearly unphased by Katsuki's public and humiliating slight to every single member of the UA heroics department and beyond. "Onto the 'preliminaries,' as they're called! Lots of fine folk end up choking on their tears here every year! And this year's first round of destiny is this!"

A screen placed behind midnight suddenly lit up. The words "Obstacle Race" stood out in large black block letters against the bright white screen. I low rumble from our backs alerted me to the fact that a large gate had begun to open. I swiveled around, forcing Ochaco to release my hand. My heart began beating rapidly in my throat, and I felt my hands instantly become clammy. This was it.

"It's a race between all eleven classes!" Midnight called. UA students swarmed around me as I slowly made my way toward the gate in front of us. "The course makes a nearly four kilometer ring around the stadium! We always sing about our freedom on campus,"

Midnight paused here to laugh. I stopped walking, still several feet away from the gate, upon realizing that I would not be able to make my way through the thick wall of bodies standing in front of me. Taking a deep breath I removed my shoes, pushing them aside gingerly with my toes. The dirt beneath my feet calmed me, and I was suddenly very aware of all the various minerals that surrounded me. I took another breath; I felt at home.

"Well, this is what it's all about! You're free to do anything, _anything_ , so long as you remain within the course! So, let's get crackin'! On your marks…"

I grounded myself, crouching low to the ground and patting my palms against the sand. Several students that I did not recognize cast anxious and confused glances down at me. I closed my eyes, allowing the tenseness of the other students to leave me. I felt my temperature spike, and my eyebrows furrowed as my new mantra to my Quirk ran through my mind: _control everything but the people around me, please_.

That was when I heard the buzzer. My eyes flashed open, and I could already feel beads of sweat prickling my back. As the feet of other students stampeded around me, I was determined not to let myself be phased. I grunted loudly, smashing my palms into the ground with as much force as I could muster.

"Get up!" I growled. The ground beneath me shook then broke, and I heard startled cries from several students as the earth surrounding my split apart.

Then I was in the air, carrying myself swiftly through the gate above the heads of the rest of my classmates. I heard the distinct, familiar growl of Katsuki as I swooped over the heads of class 1-A, the air rushing through my hair and past my ears. I let out a slow breath, willing myself to relax as I continued to fly through the air on my small chunk of earth.

"We won't let you get away that easily, two-face!"

I looked down below my earth pile, realizing that anyone from 1-A had yet to set their sites on me. I looked ahead, realizing that Shouto was breezily ice skating ahead of the rest of our classmates — he was who Katsuki had been growling at. A deep frown marred my features. I had never really been that competitive of a person, but realizing that everyone in our class was so focussed on Shouto that they did not even realize that I was easily gliding past them irked me, somehow.

Suddenly, ahead of all the other students, I realized what was coming. At least ten enormous metal robots stood in a herd between the students on the ground and the rest of the race. The one in the front had its sight set directly on me. I glanced behind me, realizing that Shouto had finally realized where I was. A mechanical whir met my ears, and I ripped my eyes off of Shouto to return to the obstacle several yards ahead of me. I sighed: I could either win this race very, very easily; or, I could make an impression.

I raised myself from my crouched position on my hunk of earth, moving my arms in a downward arc as one of the robots reached out toward me. It missed by a hair, my rock scraping against the ground as I rushed through their legs. I heard the other students catching up to me, and I knew that if I wanted to make an impression on the Pro-heroes in the audience, it was either now or never.

I let out a grunt, flipping off the rock while keeping my fingers touching the end to my rear. As another robot reached for me I threw the rock at its head with both my fingertips and my mind. A distant crash told me that my aim was true, but I didn't stop to look. With another grunt I slammed my palm into the ground, keeping my bare feet planted firmly in the dirt.

The earth split in a jagged line, moving quickly toward the robots which blocked the path in front of us. I straightened, lifting both arms above my head before pushing each arm outward, palms flat. The earth responded, raising itself like crooked waves. Some robots were pushed off kilter by the sudden shaking of the earth. I grimaced with the exertion of the moves I was using, fanning my fingers out determinedly. Mimicking my movements, the raised earth elongated into fingerlike spikes. Several robots were punctured through the head, crashing down into the dirt.

"Quit showing off,"

I started, realizing that Shouto had come to a stop at my side. I smirked, swiping my arm out in an arc in front of me. The spikes of earth broke off from the main arches, turning into javelins that shot through the air to pierce the armour of the robots that my initial attack had missed.

"Afraid I'm gonna make you look bad?" I goaded, turning to Shouto defiantly. He looked somewhat startled. "Don't worry, there'll be plenty of time to get back at me later on." Shouto cocked an eyebrow.

"Get back at you — ?"

I leaned down, swiveling on the bare tips of my toes with my arms outstretched. A thin wall of earth sprung up from the ground, following my movements. Shouto let out a grunt of surprise, the wall hitting him squarely in the gut.

"Sorry, Shouto," I muttered as our eyes meeting briefly as I followed my attack through. My torso looped around as my feet stayed firmly planted on the ground. Shouto's eyes widened as he realized my plan. "It was a sweet kiss, but I can't play favorites here."

I straightened, sticking my arms out straight before bending my front and arms toward Shouto, sending the wall of earth careening backwards toward the hoard of other students who were still making their way to where we were. I smirked as his gaze hardened, and I saw Katsuki snicker as Shouto joined the group of students making their way toward what remained of the robots. I crouched again, ignoring the stream of sweat on my neck as I slammed my palms into the ground again, lifting myself on another piece of earth into the air.

"1-A's Aizawa has forged ahead, and forced a classmate farther back to boot!" Present Mic's voice boomed loudly over the speakers. I winced. Perhaps I'd been a little harsh. "That kid's harsh!" I grimaced even more deeply. Thanks, Present Mic.

I forged ahead despite my lingering guilt. Sweat was slipping down my back; looking behind me, I could see a few students making their way out of the hectic mass of robots, many of which had been obliterated by various Quirks. I sighed, letting myself down off of my rock. I had to conserve energy.

I jogged quickly, putting the sound of my approaching classmates' footsteps out of my mind as I raced toward the next obstacle. The sweat dripping down me and the slight churning in my stomach told me that I had gone a little too hard early on. I hoped against hope that it would not be my undoing: that small hope vanished as I approached the next obstacle.

"Well then, Missy, if the first barrier was such a cinch, then whaddya think of the second?" My heart sank as my blue eyes fell on the gaping pit in front of me. Dappled across the open space were pillars of earth in a variety of sizes. I sighed, letting out a scathing 'harrumph!'

"You fall, and you're out!" Present Mic continued; the footsteps of my classmates were getting nearer to me. "If you don't like the idea, maybe you can crawl. It's... The fall!"

As Present Mic drew out his last word, I braced myself for the sick feeling in my stomach I was sure was to come. With a gruff pant I pounded my right fist into my left palm; the pillar that I had my eye on responded by allowing its top half to break away from the rest, making its way over to me. It took far less energy to break off a piece of a thin earthen pillar than to lift a chunk of dirt from the tightly compacted ground below my feet.

With a grunt I hoisted myself onto the top of the pillar, hearing audible gasps as the students behind me realized what they were up against. The frustration was palpable once they set their eyes on the sea of pillars standing within the gaping pit. I closed my eyes, ushering the earth below me forward with my will.

"It's true that they're encouraged to take the bull by the horns in a number of ways, right Mr. Eraserhead?" My heart leapt, suddenly all too aware that my father was watching me.

"What are those idiots doing just standing around?" My father's gruff voice came through the speakers, comforting my skipping heart and churning stomach. I smiled; I could always count on my father to be a lovable curmudgeon.

"Well the player in the lead seems to be keeping it comfortably!" Present Mic chortled over the intercom. My father grunted his agreement.

After what seemed like an eternity I made it to the other side, releasing the pillar of earth beneath me. I felt my stomach begin to settle, though I was quickly realizing that I would need to take it down a notch if I was to have any energy left for the elimination rounds to come. I did not much fancy getting into the stadium to fight, only to vomit all over my opponent. A small chuckle broke from my lips: on the other hand, maybe vomiting all over someone wouldn't be the worst attack.

"That was a dirty stunt you pulled back there!"

I jolted, realizing that Shouto was only a few yards behind me. I mentally slapped myself: of course he, of all people, would make it across the pit with relative ease. I did not look behind me, but kept my eyes firmly fixed on the path ahead of me as I replied. I had seen too many television shows where people tripped themselves up by simply not looking where they were going.

"I'll make it up to you, Shouto!" I called back, raising my voice so that he could hear me. "You'd have done the same to me!" Before Shouto could respond, I stopped abruptly on the edge of what looked like a very dingy soccer field. I pursed my lips: this couldn't be good.

"And now we come to the hidden final barrier!" I glanced around the field, ignoring my blush as Shouto also came to a halt by my side. We glanced at each other quickly, averting our eyes upon contact. "Its true form is none other than the minefield right out of Rambo Three!" Shouto arched an eyebrow.

"I've never even seen Rambo," he muttered, glancing around the field.

"It isn't one of my favorites." I shrugged.

"It's set up so that if you look carefully, you can see where the landmines are placed! Strain your eyes and feet!" Present Mic continued. I blanched — did he just said landmines? "In any case, they're landmines! They're not overly lethal, but they bang big and bright! Sure to knock a stool or two loose!"

Shouto and I frowned in unison. I could only imagine the look of annoyance on my own father's face from his place beside Present Mic. I sighed, spreading my toes out to feel the ground beneath me. This part of the course was clearly designed to put those in the lead at a disadvantage: Shouto and I were in for a treat.

With my mind I began to shift small particles of dirt, searching for spaces that seemed less compact. Slowly, carefully, I made my way forward. Shouto's eyes darted around the field, making his own way partially, but at the same time following my path ever so slightly. He seemed to know where my head was at.

A sudden pop broke my concentration. My mind slipped, as did the earth to my immediate right where I had been searching for a landmine. A loud explosion burst into the air, earthy rubble spraying over me as I did my best to hold my body in one place. Opening my eyes, I gazed through the dirt that sprayed the air, searching frustratedly for the one who had broken my concentration. A moment later, I realized that I should not even have bothered.

"Yo!" Bakugo Katsuki called as he flew through air, spraying flames every which way. My eyes fell on Shouto, who was a little less than a yard to my right. He too was gazing up at Katsuki, our faces each wearing almost identical masks of annoyance. "Ya think you mighta' issued that declaration of war to the wrong rival?"

"Katsuki, you absolute ass!" I yelled.

Katsuki paid me no mind, instead choosing to focus on goading Shouto into engaging him. Shouto and Katsuki began a timid sort of wrestle in the midst of a field full of landmines. I rolled my eyes, becoming increasingly aware of approaching students to our rear.

"Katsuki!"

My annoyance and fatigue took over. My body jolted forward, leaving Katsuki and Shouto behind me as I darted toward the finish line.

"You fucking moron!" I continued, haphazardly forcing my mind to find weaker spots in the ground closest to where Katsuki and Shouto were quarreling. " _I'm_ the one who was in the lead, you stupid hothead! _Pay attention!_ "

I balled my hands into fists, squeezing the earth around the dueling pair. A resounding _boom!_ was the response I received as the force of the constricting earth around Shouto and Katsuki caused the surrounding landmines to detonate. Several coughs and splutters met my ears amidst the dust and rubble, and I turned again to face forward. My heart skipped: was I going to be first?

Another explosion met my ears, and a shadow passed above me. I gasped, glancing upwards only to see Midoriya Izuku gliding through the air atop a spare piece of metal. My breath caught in my throat, watching as he spun in the air, bringing the metal down to detonate another landmine to propel himself forward. My heart sunk. This was not going to be my win.

"Whoo-ey, who could have predicted this outcome when the trial began?"

I grunted, grabbing the piece of metal Izuku had left behind with my mind and leaping onto it. If it was Izuku, I think I could settle for second, but the footsteps and growls from Katsuki behind me told me that I did not have much time.

"The man who has returned to the stadium in triumph is none other than Midoriya Izuku! His will be a name to know!"

Izuku's back gradually came into view as I finally made it back into the stadium. Lowering my palm slowly through the air, I brought the slab of metal down to a graceful stop in the dirt directly behind him. He was panting heavily, but the look of sheer happiness on his face made it impossible for me to be frustrated with him.

"Good race, Izuku," I murmured from behind him. Izuku let out a long sigh, looking up at me as the crowd cheered around us.

"You, too, Daichi-san," he gasped, wiping a drop of sweat from his brow. "Your Quirk is amazing!" I shrugged, wiping my own sweat away.

"It wears me out."

"And now they're steadily crossing the finish line, one after the other! We'll compile the results later, so for the time being, enjoy your breather!"

I turned around, observing those who arrived behind me as Present Mic continued his narration. My eyes met Shouto's; a look of disappointment was barely recognizable on his face. Giving Izuku a congratulatory pat on the shoulder, I turned and made my way over to Shouto. His mouth was drawn in a tight line as he watched the rankings appear on the large screen, in front of which Midnight was standing, watching patiently but eagerly as the rest of the students arrived.

"Sorry for the dirt," I said more shyly than I would have liked. Shouto sighed and shrugged, brushing his hair out of his eyes nervously.

"It's fine," he muttered, glancing again at our rankings. Izuku was first; I was second; Shouto third; and Katsuki fourth. He looked livid. "You're right. I would have done the same."

"The 42 at the top have earned the right to advance! I'm sorry for the kids who failed, but take heart! The festival's showstopper is still being prepared!"

The voice of Midnight broke Shouto and I out of our little bubble, drawing our attentions away from one another and back to the festival.

"And now for the post-preliminaries, the final selection! From here on out, even the press corps will teem in a white heat of excitement, so go all out!"

Shouto and I shifted next to one another. I felt our hands brush as we gazed at the screen in anticipation. Neither of us moved our hands away from the other's.

"Now then, onto today's heart-pounding second event! I already know what it will be, but the suspense is killing me... What could it be? Well, I'll tell you!" My eyes narrowed in annoyance when I saw the words on the screen. "Behold!" Shouto and I shared a moment of sighing.

"A human calvary battle?"

* * *

 **Thank you for keeping up with this story despite my long absence! once again, reviews are very much appreciated. I'm very excited about getting to the one on one battles, so I hope this chapter didn't seem too rushed! thank you again for all of the reviews, favorites, and follows- I appreciate all of your support!**


	11. Exertion

" _They've been exposed to the outside world, up close and personal. They've had that fear planted in them. And they've endured it; overcome it. Each has grown from that experience, and forgotten how to hesitate."_

* * *

We were going to have to pick our own teams: of this much, I was absolutely certain. I glanced around as Midnight continued her speech, mentally sifting through potential teammates for the human cavalry battle. As a formerly homeschooled child, I had never before participated in any sort of school field day-type activity. I knew enough about them from watching anime, but had never participated in one myself. I was fairly sure that group cavalry battles were common in those sorts of situations, but I had often wondered how they played out in real life.

"This is a team-based exercise…" I mumbled softly, but loud enough for Shouto — who was still standing stoically by my side — could hear. "Does everyone on the team get the same number of points? I don't understand how this helps rank students individually…"

"Well, being a hero isn't always only about how well you work alone," Shouto muttered in reply. I glanced over at him, briefly wondering whether or not I should go ahead and ask him to be on my team. "Perhaps our points from the race carry over to this in some way?" As if on queue, Midnight answered our murmured questions.

"Everyone will receive points based on their performance in the last trial!"

"If it's anything like the entrance exam's point system, it should be easy enough to understand," Sato Rikido piped up from my far left, where he stood beside Denki, who nodded in response.

"That means that the point value of each human warhorse will change based on who's in it!" Denki exclaimed proudly, clearly feeling good for having caught on so swiftly. Midnight bristled.

"Don't say what I was gonna say before I can!" she bellowed, her tone of annoyance becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. "But, yes," she continued, brushing off her brief frustration. "That's right! And the number of points you're worth will be five points if you placed forty-second, ten if you placed forty-first, fifteen for fortieth place, and so on... With the exception of first place, whose head is worth ten million points!"

I sucked in a nervous breath through my teeth, my eyes shifting from Midnight to follow the gaze of almost every other student standing in the arena. Midoriya Izuku was now the center of attention. His eyes hide grown huge, widened to a point where they seemed almost too big for his face. Beads of anxious sweat dripped down his face languidly, and if one looked closely — which I was — they would notice a slight quiver running through the length of Izuku's body.

He was nervous. And he sure as shit was not good at hiding it.

"If I were you all," Midnight continued, ignoring Izuku's sudden and obvious distress. "I would go for the guy worth ten million! This is a chance for the low to supplant the high! Welcome, to our survival game!"

" _Survival_ ," I repeated, rolling my eyes in spite of myself. "Why do I feel like maybe she's being a bit dramatic? Well… That's the 'Eighteen Plus Only Hero' for you, I guess…"

I heard a low chuckle escape Shouto's throat from his place beside me. I glanced up at him, fighting the blush that came with our eyes meeting unexpectedly. I had been counting on his gaze being too busy, too fixated on Izuku, to bother with me. I had been mistaken.

"Do you have a fever?" Shouto asked calmly, still ignoring the students surrounding us. "Your face is all red." Shouto did not sound genuinely confused or concerned; I frowned. He was taunting me.

"Actually, yes," I replied waspishly, flipping my face abruptly back in Izuku's direction. "As a matter of fact, I almost constantly am running a fever."

My voice was a harsh whisper, barely audible below the other students' murmuring. I allowed my gaze to slide over to Shouto ever so briefly; _now_ he was actually looking confused. I smirked, a small 'tch' noise escaping from my lips, letting Shouto stew in his own juices for a moment before I chose to continue.

"It's a Quirk thing."

Shouto raised an eyebrow, and a sudden pressure on my shoulder made me rip my eyes away from Izuku's present predicament. Shouto's hand was on my shoulder, a confused expression now completely taking over his face. As I stared, I was shocked to discover something that resembled concern in his features.

"That doesn't make any sense," he muttered darkly. His voice was low, and in the distance I could hear that Midnight had once again started to speak. "Your Quirk is elemental — controlling the earth. Why would it — ?"

"The time limit is fifteen minutes!" Midnight bellowed, cutting Shouto off mid sentence. He started, and the hand on my shoulder quivered uncertainly, as though he had only just now realized that he had placed it there. "The point value of each group's headband is worth the accumulated value of each member of that respective warhorse!"

"Todoroki-san, is everything alright?"

Shouto and I both jumped, realizing suddenly that Tenya Iida was standing in our vicinity. The pressure on my shoulder vanished, Shouto's embarrassment taking over as he removed his hand from my person. I glanced over at him, holding back a taunt as I watched him struggle to subdue the light pinkish color that was now dusting his cheeks. Tenya looked between the two of us confusedly, clearly unable to read the mood.

"Is something wrong?" he asked formally.

"Maybe!" I answered without thinking, taking a few steps away from Shouto as I spoke. "I-I-I mean, no. No." Tenya raised an eyebrow; Shouto cleared his throat awkwardly. "Teams!" I blurted, suddenly hyper aware of my lack of social grace. "Shouto and I were discussing teams."

"Neither of you were saying anything," Tenya pointed out matter-of-factly. I flushed.

"Really good friends don't need words to communicate sometimes, Tenya," I whispered, growing desperate as I tried to simultaneously recover from the awkwardness as well as pay attention to Midnight's instructions. "Y'know what I mean?"

"Is there some other part of your Quirk that I am unaware of?" he replied. I blanched.

As Tenya spoke he slid his glasses deftly up the bridge of his nose with his pointer finger. I bit my lip: without knowing it, Tenya was hitting the nail right on the head. Tenya leaned in closer, giving me a once over before speaking again.

"Aizawa-san…" he whispered. Shouto was gazing at him incredulously out of the corner of his eyes. "... Are you… Telepathic?" A sudden scoff from Shouto caused me to jump.

"Hey! Back there!" Midnight's yell drew our trio out of the awkward hellscape of our interaction. I re-focussed on Midnight, who was glaring at us over the heads of the students in front of us. "Am I boring you?"

"No, ma'am!" the three of us said in unison, quickly averting our eyes from one another and once again astutely facing Midnight.

"That's better." she said, letting out a deep sigh before continuing. "The most important part: even if your horse's headband gets stolen, or your horse crumbles in the field, you aren't out of the game!"

"It'll be tough to keep track of who's in play and how many points they have, still," I murmured, mostly to myself. That did not stop Shouto from giving a nod in reply.

"Quirks are allowed, of course, so I wanna see some nice brutality out there!" Midnight said, brandishing her whip. "That being said, if you attack another group brazenly trying to break up their horse, that'll get you a red card and you're out for the rest of the game! Now, you have fifteen minutes until then, so start forming your teams!"

I glanced around the arena swiftly, taking stock of who was the closest to me. Far to my left I spotted Shinso, who gave me a curt nod but walked in the opposite direction. I chuckled; knowing his Quirk the way that I did, I did not even have to guess what his course of action would be. Izuku and Ochaco were already together, of course. Izuku looked thrilled, as did Ochaco, and I felt a soft smile touch my lips before I tore my gaze away from them.

"Hey,"

I whipped around, suddenly realizing that Shouto had yet to move. His expression was just as it normally was, the small blush that I had noticed earlier had completely vanished. I stared at him, waiting for him to speak, studying the scar around his blue eye to entertain myself while I waited. After a short silence, he began speaking again.

"I think we should team up." he stated. It was not a question.

"Do you, now?" I sneered, folding my arms across my chest defiantly. "What if I don't want to?"

"I think that you, Iida, Kaminari and I will work well together in a challenge like this," he continued, ignoring my taunt. I frowned. "Iida already agreed."

"Then why is he over there talking to Izuku and Ochaco?" I said sourly, jerking my thumb over my shoulder in their general direction.

"Of course Midoriya would ask for him to be in his warhorse," he said softly. He glanced over my shoulder briefly before continuing. "They're friends. But Iida knows that this isn't about friendship."

"Then why are you asking me?" I replied tartly. Shouto smirked.

Shouto's smirks were different from smirks I had encountered from others. It was not goading, it was not braggy. It was soft. I still did not fully understand the meaning behind the smirks of Todoroki Shouto.

"You think I'm asking you because you and I are friends?"

"Who says we're friends?" I scoffed, glancing over my shoulder to get a glimpse of what Tenya was up to. It was just as Shouto had predicted — he was walking back over. Izuku and Ochaco wore identical masks of disappointment.

"I did kiss you," Shouto muttered. He was now avoiding my gaze.

"On the forehead." I clarified, staring directly at his face. His lips twitched. Whether that twitch was meant to be a smile or a frown, I was unsure.

"But we did kiss."

"You two _what?!_ "

I jumped, scurrying back several paces upon the realization that none other than Kaminari Denki had just appeared next to Shouto and I. Shouto looked surprisingly calm, his eyes sliding casually over to rest on our classmate, who was now looking between the two of us wildly. A small choking sound was escaping his lips, and despite the horror and embarrassment that I felt churning in my stomach, I found myself mildly impressed that Denki could go this long without talking.

"Oh… Hey, Kaminari." Shouto muttered blandly. Tenya had at last made his way back over to our group.

"Don't you _hey Kaminari_ me!" Denki retorted. "You two _kissed_?" Denki's pointer finger was now waving accusingly back and forth between Shouto and I. "What the hell! When?"

"Oh, so is this why you had your hand on Aizawa-san's shoulder earlier?" Tenya asked. My face was now beginning to feel incredibly hot.

"Maybe," Shouto responded, still remaining surprisingly calm. "Is there some sort of problem?"

"All of my questions have been answered." Tenya replied.

"Now hang on, I still have questions!" Denki blurted. I rolled my eyes.

"We were just kidding around!" I hissed. "Fine, Shouto, I'll join the group. Now can we please make a plan?"

"But the kiss!" Denki insisted, grabbing my wrist. "Daichi, this guy's an ice queen — why would you wanna — "

"I think Daichi mentioned discussing strategy." Shouto interjected, his tone living up to his newly given name of Ice Queen.

Denki snapped his mouth closed, releasing my wrist in response to Shouto's stern gaze. I glanced back over my shoulder, eyeing Izuku's replacement for his lost friend Tenya: he had chosen Tokoyami Fumikage. Not a bad choice, I had to admit.

"With both Shouto and I, our warhorse is going to be worth a hefty amount of points," I muttered as I turned back toward my teammates. "We'll probably be targeted by students with lower point values — particularly if they're from class B."

"What makes you say that?" Denki interjected, scratching his head in quizzically.

A sudden outburst from Monoma Neito, a student from 1-B with a copy Quirk, erupted from somewhere within the crowd of students surrounding us.

"Let's show those snotty class A kids what for, everybody!" he shouted, a wide sneer plastered across his face.

"Does that answer your question?" I deadpanned, jerking my thumb in Neito's direction. Denki rolled his eyes.

"Those guys need to get a grip."

"Put that aside for a moment," Shouto insisted, drawing our attention back to ourselves. "The reason I wanted all of you in the warhorse is because I think our Quirks balance nicely."

"I'm sure," Denki muttered sarcastically, shooting me a knowing look. I ignored the blush that coated my cheeks in response.

"Kaminari," Shouto continued on as if Denki had said nothing. "You'll be on the left, sending out sparks to keep people away. Iida will be at the front using his engine power, and to act as defense."

"It's gonna be hard to be using my electricity defensively and keep it in check enough to not electrify you all," Denki said nervously. A curt nod in my direction was Shouto's response.

"That's why we have Daichi here." Denki looked puzzled.

"Dude, earth is a conductor," he said smugly, clearly reveling in what he assumed to be a mental shortcoming of his prodigy-like classmate. I sighed.

"Only if it's wet," I corrected. I unfolded my arms from their place across my chest, focussing my energy on bringing the top layer of dirt nearest to me over to where we stood. "If I wring the water out of it, it should be dry enough to keep your electrical currents from harming us."

"You can do that?" Denki asked, astonished as he watched a light misting of water drain from the cloud of dust dancing around me. "It's dirt, not a fucking towel." I frowned.

"Just let me do my thing, Denki. Geez."

"Daichi will give us a sheet of dry dirt to avoid contact with Kaminari's electricity. She'll be on the right." I nodded, listening intently. In the distance, Midnight announced that ten minutes had already passed. "But you can control multiple bodies of earth all at once, right?" Again, I nodded. "If someone gets close on your side, just send something up to block their path."

"Got it."

"And Todoroki, you can feint your attacks using either ice or heat, right?" Denki said excitedly. Shouto's expression remained stony. "With you on the top of the horse, we'll be unstoppable!" My face fell. I already knew Shouto's answer.

"No…" he murmured darkly. He glanced over his shoulder, and following his gaze I could barely pick out the flames of his father, Endeavor, amidst the crowd watching us. "In combat I will never, ever, use my heat side."

Before any of us could protest, Midnight had begun speaking again. She shouted loudly that the games were about to begin, more for the crowd than for us, waving her arms and whip wildly through the air. The crowd cheered as each group of students assembled their warhorse; I winced a little as Shouto clambered onto the top of ours.

A thin sheet of bone-dry dirt and sand danced over the top of our heads, shrouding us from Denki's slightly spastic Quirk. I glanced around, catching Katsuki's eye from across the field. The blonde was perched precariously atop the shoulders and hands of Eijiro, Mina, and Hanta. I wondered vaguely if Katsuki had even known what their Quirks were before forming the team.

"Three!" shouted Midnight, beginning her countdown. I felt our warhorse shift as each of us braced ourselves. "Two… One… Start!"

I watched in awe as almost every single warhorse around us lunged straight for Izuku's team. Izuku looked mortified as two teams raced toward him. Someone's Quirk had him stuck in a sink pit of some kind, but before either team could make it to him he and his group had jettisoned themselves into the air with a jetpack, no doubt courtesy of the Support Department.

"Daichi!" Shouto called out from above.

"On it!" I grunted.

I felt my temperature spike as I lifted us into the air. The ground below our feet followed us as the surrounding area broke apart as I stole away a piece of it for air travel. The resulting unsteadiness of the surrounding earth caused several teams to nearly topple over, though unfortunately each team maintained their balance in the end.

"Iida!" I grunted, forcing the rock upwards against the weight of the four of us. Tenya nodded in response, and I heard the familiar mechanical whir of his Quirk firing up. "Let's get Izuku's headband!"

"Aye aye!" Tenya called.

A second later we burst through the air, our little patch of earth propelled forward by the power of Tenya's leg engines. Up ahead I saw Izuku notice our swift approach, a look of surprise dancing across his face before he mouthed some kind of command to Ochaco. Shouto's arm groped through the open air, Izuku's warhorse descending to the ground before we could even reach them.

"Dammit!" Denki shouted, looking down below over the edge of our rock. "Those Support Department kids are no joke!"

"I'm gonna take us down!" I said, desiring nothing more than to not have my fever spike any more than it already had.

"Have a look ladies and gentlemen!" Midnight's voice broke out over the clamor of arguing UA students as I landed our earthen platform just behind the warhorses surrounding Izuku. "Not even two minutes have elapsed and already we have a melee of tumultuous proportions on our hands!" To my left I noticed a group from class B glance in our direction; my stomach dropped as I had a sudden epiphany. "Anywhere you rest your eyes, there's two teams vying for and stealing each other's headbands! After all, it's a fine strategy to aim for second to fourth place headbands instead of the big ten million!"

"Shouto…" I muttered darkly, my eyes staying fixed on the class B group. They were now running in our direction. "If I placed second, and you placed third… Then that means…"

"Yeah," Shouto replied, also having noticed the approaching group. "We have the second most points."

"Shit!" Denki swore as he sent out a bolt of electricity, startling the other team. "Go, guys, go!"

I lifted the rock off of the group just a bit, bracing my calves to steady myself as Tenya fired up his legs again. We burst across the field away from the other group. I kept my eyes on Izuku, following his movements as they flew across the sky to escape Mineta's group, which consisted of himself and Tsuyu hiding on Shoji's back.

I heard Midnight rambling loudly about point values in the distance. As we skated across the field atop our low floating rock, I glanced at the jumbo screen in the distance. Truth be told, it was a little disappointing. Even with my and Shouto's combined points of second and third place, we were still only in fourth place.

"Class B is doing way better than us!" I shouted angrily. I heard Shouto grunt an annoyed acknowledgement of my realization.

"Iida, Daichi, turn us around," he ordered gravely. "We have to find Midoriya and take the lead."

"Roger!" Tenya and I said in unison.

Izuku was not difficult to find. I followed his voice, discovering him in the midst of the confusion of the other teams shouting at one another. Katsuki's yells were, as usual, particularly loud. With another burst from his legs Tenya sent us careening toward Izuku's team, and we stopped just feet in front of them. Izuku looked concerned, eyeing our group warily from his place on top of his warhorse.

"The time has come," Shouto declared ominously, looking Izuku dead in the eyes. I held in a snicker. "I'm taking it."

"In the midst of class B's ascendence, the title fight comes to the fore!" Midnight's voice broke through the tension between our teams only for a moment. "Upon whose head shall rest those ten million points?!"

"Daichi, sure up the sand around us!" Shouto ordered. The light mist of dust that had been following us for the majority of the game hardened in response. "Kaminari — !"

"Yeah buddy, I know!" Daichi called back, cutting Shouto off. "Hang tight!"

"Iida, advance!"

We ran forward, leaving our rock behind in preparation for Denki's attack. Behind us I heard calls of frustration and pain as Denki's "Indiscriminate Discharge" shocked our competition with 1,300,000 volts of electricity.

"There's less than six minutes left on the clock," Shouto told us. I let the sand shielding us from Denki's electricity return to hovering just over our heads. "Sorry about this, but just endure it for a second."

A moment later a long pole of ice appeared in Shouto's hand, scratching through the ground below us as we ran. The temperature around us dropped to a chill, so much so that I could see my own breath. Despite that, I felt a sudden relief from my ever-increasing temperature for a quick moment while Shouto froze all of the teams behind us in their tracks.

"What's this? Todoroki held back the mob of horses in one fell swoop!" yelled Midnight. My father's voice broke out over the intercom.

"He used Kaminari's electricity to stop everyone firmly in their tracks so he could be sure to freeze them all," he explained calmly. "He's looking back on the obstacle race, where too many people were able to dodge the ice for his liking."

"Nice commentary!" Present Mic sang. No doubt my father was rolling his eyes in response.

Our group looped back around briefly, Shouto snatching the closest headbands deftly from the heads of our rival horses. The groups from class B looked particularly miffed, shouting after us angrily as we continued on toward Izuku's group. Tokoyami Fumikage's Dark Shadow shot out in our direction as we approached; the jetpack Izuku had been using throughout the rest of the match had clearly reached its limits.

"Daichi!" Shouto shouted as he covered his face to shield himself.

I brought down my foot roughly with my next step, sending up a wall of earth just short of our group. It shot forward, crashing right into Dark Shadow's face and sending him off his course toward us. I heard a muffled 'oof!' escape it as it retreated back toward Tokoyami, who was grimacing in frustration.

"That damn elemental Quirk…" I heard Tokoyami mutter to Izuku, whose expression had hardened resolutely in response to our swift approach.

Shouto sent up a semicircle of ice to surround our two groups, clearly anticipating outside interference. We shot forward, and I allowed the wall of dry sand to return to covering us as Denki shot out several hundred volts to ward of Dark Shadow. Every time we got a little closer to Izuku's warhorse, Dark Shadow somehow managed to put the distance between us again. I frowned, sweat dripping down my back. We were running out of time.

"There's only about a minute left!" I heard Midnight say through the clamor of the other students. "And Todoroki has set the field! All that's left is swiping that ten million!"

"Guys…" Tenya murmured from the front, catching our attention. "We only have about a minute left, and I'll be useless after this… So, I'm counting on you."

"Iida?" Shouto muttered, but Tenya barrelled on.

"Just hold on tight!" Tenya shouted. I braced myself, grasping Shouto's ankles as tightly as I could. "Recipro Burst!"

We shot forward faster than we had moved the whole match — it felt as though we were flying. My feet left the ground, knocking into Denki's just a little as we were dragged through the air by the force of Tenya's engines. I watched, wide eyed, as Shouto reached out his hand. His fingers wrapped around the cloth on Izuku's forehead, the headband sliding off as we passed his group with unparalleled speadiness. A smile broke out across my face: we had done it!

"Iida, what was that just now?" Shouto asked. Whatever Tenya's answer, it was cut off by Midnight's bellows.

"That was blisteringly fast!" she shouted. "Iida, if you have super acceleration, why didn't you use it in the preliminaries?!"

"I can forcibly rev up my torque to explosive proportions if need be," Tenya explained. Now stationary, I glanced over my shoulder. A thick cloud of black smoke, emanating from Tenya's leg engines, was obscuring Izuku's team from view. "However as kickback I'll suffer from engine stall in short order. That was the trick I had up my sleeve that I never told my classmates."

"Todoroki has the ten million!" Midnight called. Tenya turned us around, now facing Izuku through the smoke.

"I thought I told you, Midoriya," he yelled brazenly. "I am challenging myself against you!"

"After them!" I heard Izuku yell, turning his team in our direction.

"Shit," I muttered darkly. "We gotta get out of here. We just have to hold onto that ten million for a little longer!"

Despite my warning our teams lunged toward one another. My eyes widened as I saw Izuku's Quirk manifest in his hand, grasping the air in an attempt to get at Shouto. A sudden burst of light told me that, despite his insistence, Shouto was using his heat side.

"Shouto, what — ?"

"Quiet!" Shouto snarled, using his other arm to grab at Izuku.

Flames danced through the air as Izuku and Shouto had it out above our heads. I watched in awe, never before having seen Shouto's flames for myself. They were beautiful, but I saw Shouto's eyes widen in horror as he suddenly realized what he was doing. It was in that brief moment of self-doubt that Izuku took his chance, snagging the headband at the top of the stack tied around Shouto's neck.

"I got it!" Izuku yelled triumphantly. I smirked.

" _Sure_ you do," I called back snarkily. I saw Izuku's eyes widen in surprise as he opened his palm, revealing the value of the headband. "Assuming makes an ass out of just you, Izuku!"

"Todoroki, get your wits about you!" Tenya's sudden instructions called my attention back to Shouto, who was staring at his left arm in shock. "That was dangerous!"

"Leave him be, Tenya," I murmured. I reached one arm comfortingly toward Shouto, but he flinched away from my grasp. I bit my lip; he was not doing well.

Midnight had begun to count down from ten, and I felt a rumble through the ground as not only Izuku, but Katsuki's group as well, sprinted toward our group desperately. I stomped one foot, sending up a circle of heavy chunks of earth to flank us on all sides.

"Time up!" Midnight called. Izuku grimaced.

"Talk about saved by the bell," I said breathlessly. Shouto was still not speaking.

"Let's see who our top four are!" Midnight continued dramatically. "In first place, team Todoroki! In second place, team Bakugo!" The loudest growl I had ever heard erupted from Katsuki's mouth. "In third place, team Tetsu — Wait, it's team Shinso?!" I chuckled at Midnight's confusion, watching with delight as Shinso Hitoshi sarcastically thanked his previously mind-controlled team for their hard work. "And in fourth place, team Midoriya!"

"What?" I gasped, glancing around frantically. "How — ?" My eyes fell on Shouto, whose forehead I suddenly realized was completely bare. "Shouto, your headband!"

"I know…" Shouto muttered angrily. "That damn Tokoyami…"

"The first four teams will move on to the final event!" Midnight declared. In the distance I saw Izuku crying tears of joy. "Now, step forward!"

Our warhorse broke apart, setting Shouto carefully down on the ground as we spread out. I flexed my shoulders, feeling stiff from holding Shouto up for that long. I paused mid-stretch, noticing that Shouto was quivering. I walked toward him slowly, unsure of what to do or say.

"Shouto…" I whispered, coming to stand beside him. He was glaring at his left hand, flexing it into and out of a fist repeatedly. "Hey, Shouto, are you — ?" I reached for his shoulder, only to be brutally brushed away.

"I… I can't go on like this…" he choked out. My eyes widened. I had never seen Shouto lose his cool like this before. "That's exactly what dad has always told me…" Midnight announced an hour lunch break in the distance.

Without another word Shouto turned on his heel, marching toward the exit of the arena. I blinked, feeling somewhat dumbfounded about the sudden cold shoulder. Before I could think any more about it my feet had started to move, taking me toward Shouto as fast as my tired legs could carry me. I grabbed his shoulder, desperate to get him to talk to me about what was bothering him. For the life of me, I did not know what I cared so much. My stomach was already in knots both from exertion of my Quirk, as well as from Shouto having slapped my hand away.

"Shouto!" I insisted, pulling on his shoulder to force him to turn and face me. "Shouto, please, just talk to —"

"No!" Shouto blurted out, cutting me off. I recoiled, releasing his shoulder from my grasp. "No… I don't want to talk… To you." I blinked slowly, somehow not able to fully comprehend his words.

"But… But, I just —"

"You don't get it." Shouto muttered darkly. I was not permitted to finish speaking; clearly, he did not want to grant me license to speak at all, anymore. "How could you? You, the child prodigy of Eraserhead… How could someone like you, with a father like that, with a Quirk like yours… You could never understand." My expression hardened.

"Shouto, be careful," I murmured. "If you keep talking like that, you're gonna piss me off." Shouto scoffed.

"Talking like Bakugo isn't going to make what I said any less true," he replied.

"You don't even know me, Shouto," I bit back. I could feel eyes on me; whether it was other students or people still in the crowd, I was not sure. "You don't know anything about me, my father, or my Quirk, so why don't you just shut up about shit you don't know?" Shouto smirked, turning away from me. He did not even see me as worth arguing with.

"Go back to your sandbox, Aizawa," he murmured hoarsely. He was walking away. "Feeling at odds with your own Quirk… Someone like you could never understand."

And then he was gone, disappearing through the arena exit, his mood icier than ever. My arms fell limply by my sides, dangling there defeatedly as I stared after him. In spite of myself, I felt hot tears stinging at the corner of my eyes.

Todoroki Shouto really knew nothing about me. Little did I know that it would not be long before the true nature of my Quirk would really get the better of me.

* * *

 **I'm very excited to get to the one-on-one battles! As always, thank you for the support, and reviews are much appreciated!**


	12. Carnage

" _The most inflated egos are often the most fragile."_

* * *

My vision was blurry. It was difficult to think; to speak; to breathe. The right side of my face felt strange, a weirdly blurred line between warm and cold. I knew that it was caked in almost-dried blood, some of which was still dripping down the edge of my face languidly. Every time I moved my face, I felt the blood that had already dried tug at my skin uncomfortably. The portion of my face above my cheek had yet to regain any feeling.

"Daichi, talk to me,"

My father sat on a chair in front of me, watching me intently despite my lack of movement. His dark grey eyes had been fixated on me since he had returned to Recovery Girl's office, which I had not left since finishing my second battle. I bit my lip, letting out a reluctant groan in spite of my determination to stay silent.

"I can clean up the blood, Eraserhead," I heard Recovery Girl say from the other side of the office. I heard the sound of shifting objects, in all likelihood she was sifting through products to clean me up with. "I can heal her more minor injuries… But… My Quirk can only go so far…" I heard my father give a solemn mumble of acknowledgement.

"I always tell you… I always tell my students to not overdo it…" he began again. I made no movements. "Daichi… Some of these injuries are, in all likelihood, permanent." I felt tears sting the corner of my left eye, but I still had no feeling in my right. "Daichi, I need you to tell me what happened out there."

For several long minutes I was silent, mulling over my father's words. I had not overdone it, that much I knew. All I could determine was that I had merely grown careless. I had allowed personal affairs to distract me, to create an opening, and that had been my undoing. I felt goosebumps break out across my neck and arms as a sudden chill swept through me as I replayed the events of my final fight quickly through my head. No, I had not overdone it. Or, at least, that was not the reason why I was in Recovery Girl's office, now.

"What happened…" I murmured finally, reaching up to touch the right side of my face. All my fingertips could feel was the crustiness of the blood that had dried there.

"Daichi-chan, don't touch that," I heard Recovery Girl instruct from somewhere in the distance. I bit my lip more roughly, suddenly feeling shame and regret swell deep within my stomach.

"What happened…" I repeated again, heeding Recovery Girl's instructions and removing my hand from my face. "... I wonder…"

* * *

 **Hours earlier…**

* * *

I watched with mild disinterest as the other girls from class A came marching onto the field. Each of them were dressed head to toe in cheerleader outfits, pompoms waving frivolously through the air as they jumped through the dirt of the arena field. Among them was the girl from Hitoshi Shinso's class, the disagreeable girl whose name was far too difficult to pronounce correctly. I arched an eyebrow, my gaze falling on Mineta, who look positively thrilled.

"Why are you all dressed like that?" I asked tartly, glaring at Mineta over my shoulder all the while. "U.A. brought cheerleaders from America, I doubt we need any more cheerleaders on our end…"

"You!" Shinso's classmate shouted, waving her pompoms wildly in Mineta's direction. "You tricked me again!" Ochaco turned to me, her expression a mixture of apologetic and embarrassed.

"It appears Mineta used her to ride to victory during the obstacle course," she muttered below the girl's yells. "Yaoyorozu-san made these when Mineta told us these were Aizawa-sensei's instructions…"

"And you believed that?" I choked out, astonished. The girl — Yaoyorozu — rounded on me the minute she heard me speak.

"I finally made it to the battle elimination round, I wasn't about to disobey what I thought was a direct instruction from a Hero course instructor!" she growled. She threw her pompoms in the dirt, stomping over to me as though I had been the one who had tricked her. "I plan to use this opportunity to get into the hero course. You think I was going to let a little embarrassment get in my way?"

"I think you're misunderstanding," I said, still fighting back a laugh.

By this time Shinso had appeared by my side. His expression was unreadable, as usual, as he surveyed the scene before him. Kyoka was looking particularly annoyed, her headphone jacks jerking every which way like the tail of a frustrated cat. As the group of girls continued to talk amongst themselves, I directed my attention back to Shinso, who was glancing around the arena with a look of vague anticipation.

"Feeling good?" I asked. As I spoke the rest of the students who had advanced to this round began to return to the arena. Among them was Shouto, whose gaze I resolutely avoided. "If I have to fight you, I apologize in advance for kicking your ass." Shinso chuckled.

"You already know how my Quirk works," Shinso replied, hands remaining firmly in his pockets. "If the bracket pits me against you, I may as well just forfeit." I folded my arms across my chest, nodding proudly.

"Damn right."

"Of course, maybe that little lover's quarrel of yours will distract you enough for me to have a fighting chance," he added, sneering over at me. I had never seen Shinso show so much emotion in his face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked snarkily, still not looking in Shouto's direction. Shinso raised a single incredulous eyebrow.

"You and that half-and-half kid," he replied, nodding in Shouto's direction. Shouto seemed to notice Shinso's movement, glancing over his shoulder in response. Our eyes met for a brief moment before ripping away from one another, each determined to ignore the other. "You two get in some sort of fight?"

"Nope." I said sourly.

"Seems bad,"

"We didn't fight."

"I hope you guys can work it out,"

"I said, _we didn't fight!_ " I shouted, at last losing my cool. Before Shinso could make some kind of sarcastic reply, Midnight's voice once again broke through the chit chat.

"It's the final event!" she declared loudly as a bracket appeared on the giant screen facing the audience. "From four teams, sixteen individuals have made it through — it's a tournament! And we're pitting them against each other in one-on-one combat!"

"Finally we're gonna get to appear on the stage that I see every year!" Eijiro exclaimed enthusiastically from up in front of Shinso and I. Mina stood next to him, still in her cheerleading costume.

"There was a tournament last year, too?" she asked, glancing around her for an answer.

"There's a one-on-one each year," I replied from my place behind her. "They're always the main event."

"Ah, that's right!" Mina replied, glancing over her shoulder to look at me. "You must've been to a lot of these things, huh, Daichi?" I gave her a small smile, noticing that Shouto was watching me out of the corner of his eyes.

"Long-time watcher, first-time competitor," I responded.

In the background of our conversation Midnight was explaining the method for determining the bracket. It was a simple lotto draw: all sixteen names were to be put into a box, which Midnight would draw from in order to determine our fighting pairs. She shook the box through the air as she explained, her face contorted in an expression of uncurtailed excitement. A hand raised from the crowd of students suddenly. It was Ojiro Mashirao's hand.

"Um, please excuse me…" he said, his tone serious. The surrounding students suddenly became very quiet. "I… I don't want to participate."

* * *

The confusion from Ojiro's sudden withdrawal from the tournament was resolved by accepting volunteers from teams outside of the top four into the tournament round. And so we waited, myself and the other students, in various rooms around the arena, to be called forward for the first rounds of matches. I waited alone in a corner, ignoring my classmates as I repeated my mantra over and over inside of my head. _Control everything but the living._

Two matches passed before my own, including a match between Izuku and Shinso. Despite my curiosity, I opted to sit that one out, not fully knowing which person I was to route for in such a situation. I merely waited, motionless in my corner, jumping slightly every time that I heard the crowd cheer from outside in the arena. I did not move until I was informed that it was my turn, ignoring well wishes from my classmates as I exited the room.

"Hey."

I paused, realizing that Shinso had appeared in front of me. He looked disappointed, but not noticeably different from usual. I suspected I could only tell his mood because the two of us were familiar. He let out a sigh, removing his gaze from my own, a hint of embarrassment just noticeably in his eyes.

"Yeah, I lost..."

"That's alright," I replied, trying my best to be comforting. "Someone has to." Shinso chuckled.

"So you're up against Yaoyorozu, huh?" I shrugged. Shinso smirked. "Her Quirk's an interesting one. Creation. That's why I had her on my team."

"You didn't use your Quirk on her?"

"Nah," he replied airily. "She can be frustrating, but she's got a strong Quirk and a good head on her shoulders." I frowned, glancing at the ground. "You can beat her, though." he continued. I looked back up at him, our eyes meeting once more before he turned to enter the waiting room. "Just don't hesitate for too long." I nodded, continuing to watch him as he entered the waiting room. I began walking, but a moment later I was at the doorway again. Shinso glanced up at me, looking confused.

"Shinso," I said, a smile dancing across my features. He arched an eyebrow, the other students' eyes watching us curiously. Shouto looked mildly annoyed. "Thank you."

And then I was gone, jogging swiftly toward the entrance into the arena.

* * *

"For this round we have Yaoyoruzo Momo, from the General Department!" Midnight called from her place next to the fighting platform. My mouth became suddenly dry as I stared across the platform at Momo, who was looking at me in a manner that was as ferocious as it was calculating. "And from the Department of Heroics, the daughter of Eraserhead, Aizawa Daichi!"

"You may be some sort of pedigree to these people here," Momo called from her place across from me. "Even if I'm just from the general department, I'm going to give it my all!"

"I'll do the same," I muttered, bracing my legs as I concentrated on everything around me that was made of stone. "Control everything but the living…" I whispered to myself.

"Ready! Begin!"

I slapped my palm against the ground, lifting a slab of concrete away from the platform in the same instant. Momo had yet to move, and was instead focussing on her stomach, which she had undone her shirt to expose. I grimaced, remembering Shinso's information about her Quirk: I couldn't give her time to create anything too big.

A sudden explosion to my right shook me out of my thoughts. I was flung off of the ground by the force of the explosion, and I was forced to bring up a large slab of concrete to keep myself from flying out of bounds. I hit the concrete roughly, a gargle-like sound escaping my lips as the wind rushed out of my lungs.

"Is that really all you've got, hero?" Momo shouted. In her hands I spied two small black objects, and my eyes widened: grenades.

I stood up, ignoring the pain in my chest from having the wind knocked out of me. I dodged the second grenade, swiping my left hand upwards as I moved away from the spot where I had landed. Another chunk of concrete dislodged from the platform, and with a flippant wave of my hand I sent the grenade flying off of the platform away from me.

And then I was running, dodging grenade after grenade while simultaneously working to send each grenade out of bounds entirely so as to not be thrown off balance. Momo was beginning to look worried, her expression growing more desperate the closer I got to her. She threw another grenade, which I once again blocked and sent flying. There was barely any space left between us.

"You heroes," she grunted, trying her best to step out of my line of fire as I transitioned to hand-to-hand combat. "If… If it hadn't been for you, Aizawa, maybe I could have gotten in on recommendations —"

I ducked low, ignoring her remarks for the time being. Momo created a long pole from her stomach, jabbing in my direction in an attempt to keep me at a distance. I parried, darting behind her back, closer to the out of bounds line. I spun on one hand low to the ground, jutting out one leg to knock Momo's feet out from under her. She fell to the ground, coughing slightly. I did not give her time to recover, clambering over her body to her other side, away from the out of bounds line.

"Brace yourself," I muttered.

Momo gasped, murmuring weakly something that sounded like 'wait.' I paid her no mind. A second later I slapped my palm to the ground again, dislodging the concrete supporting her. My annoyance with her had gotten the better of me, resulting in Momo being jettisoned unceremoniously across the out of bounds marker on her tiny slab of concrete. She and the concrete hit the ground, jutting up against one another for a moment as Momo and the concrete barrelled through the air before sliding to a stop in the dirt several yards away from the concrete where I stood.

"My father almost wasn't able to get me in." I said, doing my best to keep my voice level. Momo was coughing, most likely having had the wind knocked out of her. But I could tell that she was listening. "Because I was homeschooled, he almost wasn't able to get me in on recommendations…"

"You almost ended up like me, then…" Momo interjected, her tone laced with frustrating. I scoffed.

"No way," I replied. I glanced into the crowd, my eyes spying the small room that held Present Mic and my father. "If my father hadn't been able to get me in, I would've taken that entrance exam…" My gaze softened, Shouto's face flashing through my mind for just a moment. Momo may have been right: not very much separated the two of us except for a few strokes of luck. But knowing what I knew now — _who_ I knew, now — I would have given anything to make it through that exam.

"Oh, and Momo?" I continued as she was ushered out of the arena. My eyes fell briefly on a long cut that now decorated her arm, most likely from her collision with the concrete. I smiled.

"I would've kicked ass."

* * *

The day was dragging by: it seemed like it had been an eternity.

I had left the arena after my fight with Momo, electing not to watch the outrageousness that I was sure would ensue during the fight between Katsuki and Ochaco. While we may not have been very close, the idea of watching Ochaco getting ruthlessly pummeled by Katsuki made my stomach churn. I had instead elected to go outside of the arena to be alone with my thoughts, away from the palpable tenseness of those students still awaiting their first battles.

The first round of eliminations was nearly over, which had been signaled to me when Present Mic had announced the match between Izuku and Shouto some minutes earlier. I did my best to put Shouto and his fight far out of reach of my thoughts, not wanting to consider the possibility that I may end up fighting him should Izuku lose. My guess was that Izuku, being the bold spirit that he was, would put up one hell of a fight. However, I knew all too well that Shouto's power and experience with his Quirk far outstripped Izuku. Still, I had to wonder how Shouto's present mental instability would play into things.

I shook my head roughly, as though shaking it back and forth could somehow clear it of any distractions. In the distance I heard a variety of cheers, the typical " _Ooo_ "s and " _Aahhh"_ s of the crowd that I had come to be so familiar to me during my many years of attending the U.A. Sports Festival. I sighed heavily, thinking back on my fight with Momo.

Perhaps she was right. Had my life taken just the slightest different turn, I could be where she was right now: alone in the infirmary, nursing wounds that had been inflicted all too easily. As a member of the General Studies Department, she did not get the same opportunities to hone her Quirk as we did. I glanced down at my hand, prodding the fleshier parts of it with my other index finger. Despite my greater opportunities, I had way less control over my Quirk than people thought.

My thoughts danced suddenly to my mother. Her blonde hair, the color of ripe Shimizu ***** , dancing in some fantastical breeze created in my imaginary memories of her. In truth, I had very few memories of her… Perhaps I had none at all. I had been very young when she died, after all. All I really knew was her face. Part of me wondered if those memories I did sometimes think of were merely illusions, artistically manufactured in my imagination from just having seen pictures of her. Perhaps if I had just had a little more time with her, my Quirk would not be such a mystery.

"Heaven's Gate…" I muttered to myself softly. I had stopped prodding at my own hand, and instead gazed up at the blue sky above me. "I wonder… How much is my Quirk like yours?" I continued. I knew very well that if someone else had been around, I would have sounded quite strange. Thinking out loud was a bad habit of mine. "The 'What If' Quirk…"

"Hey, so who won?" Present Mic's voice broke through my solitary conversation, thankfully shaking me from my rapid devolvement into self-doubt. "Looks like Midoriya is out of the ring!"

A cheer erupted from the crowd, and my eyes widened as I realized that Shouto had won his match with Izuku. The noise from the audience was so loud I was in awe that the stadium itself was not shaking. Shakily, I took a breath, steadying myself as I made my way back into the tunnel that lead into the stadium.

In the middle of the dimly lit tunnel I came to a stop. Footsteps in the distance alerted me that I was not alone, and despite being in familiar territory, I could feel myself getting nervous. I strained my eyes, trying desperately to make out who it was that was coming toward me. I blinked, allowing my eyes time to adjust to the darkness as I continued to try and decipher their identity. A moment later, and the weakness in my knees and butterflies in my stomach answered the question before my eyes could.

"Oh…" Shouto's voice was calm, and yet, I could hear it shaking. Not a scared sort of shaking, though. It was like he was invigorated. "It's you."

"No need to sound disappointed." I snapped, holding back a pout. I always thought that it was rather unfortunate that my defense mechanism for wounded pride was to be snarky. It never made me look very good. "I was just on my way to my next fight."

Despite the darkness I forced myself to look anywhere else but where Shouto was standing, suddenly noticing that half of his shirt was missing. How a freshman in high school ended up that toned, I was certain I would never understand. I heard a puff of air escape Shouto's lips. It almost sounded like a laugh, but not quite. I allowed myself a brief glance back at him, struggling to figure out his mood.

"Your fight with that girl was pretty good," he said, his eyes meeting mine. I felt myself blush, and mentally thanked the darkness for the camoflauge. "You can do better."

"Gee, thanks," I scoffed. I knew my enormous eye roll did not go unmissed by Shouto, despite the darkness. "I really appreciate the encouragement." For a moment it was silent between the two of us. "I guess you're not the one I'm fighting, then?" Shouto shook his head, and we fell silent again.

"I'm sorry." Shouto said suddenly. His eyes were locked with mine.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated firmly. "For what I said earlier."

I felt my heart skip, but I immediately forced myself to calm down. I knew that he would apologize — how could he not? We were friends, after all. But, for whatever reason, at that time I found myself thoroughly unable to give him the reply that I knew he wanted. I let out a heavy sigh, forcing my feet to move against my desire to stay with him, to tell him that I forgave him, to be close to him. I brushed past him, trying my very best not to linger as I brushed past his bare chest and arm. His eyes followed me; he looked puzzled.

"Daichi?" he muttered, his tone quizzical. I paused and looked over my shoulder. Our eyes met again.

"It doesn't change what you said." I murmured softly, averting my eyes and turning away from him fully. "It doesn't change what it meant just because you apologize. You still believe all of what you said."

"Daichi, I —"

"I need to go," I blurted, cutting him off. My face felt hot; my eyes felt hot; everything felt unbearably hot. "My match is about to start… I have to go."

Without another look back I started forward, forcing myself to ignore the gaze I felt following me until I faded from his view. I breathed in and out as steadily as I could, not wanting to seem flustered as I finally made it to the arena. I burst out of the end of the tunnel and into the light, loud cheers from the crowd greeting me and growing louder with every step that I took toward the center of the arena. My heart sank.

The person waiting for me in the arena was none other than Bakugo Katsuki.

"This is the last match of the quarter-final round!" Midnight shouted excitedly. Cementos was still firmly planted in his cement referee chair several yards away from the fighting platform. "You've seen three students advance to the semi-finals: Tokoyami, Iida, and Todoroki!" The crowd cheered even louder in response to her words, and I took my place on the platform opposite of Katsuki. "This is the last one to determine who continues on! Will it be the hothead from Heroics, Bakugo Katsuki? Or the rock-whisperer, Aizawa Daichi?"

I took a deep, steadying breath, taking the time to get a good look at the audience. Among them, if I looked very carefully, I could just make out a group of U.A. students. Their blue uniforms stood out in the crowd, and I smiled, choosing to believe that it was none other than Ochaco, Izuku, maybe even Shinso up there, watching me.

"Prepare yourself, mudface," Katsuki growled from his place across from me. "I'm gonna do to you what I did to that bitch who floats shit."

I smirked, removing my shirt with one hand as Midnight continued being our hype man. The air hit my back, cooling the sweat that seemed it had been stuck to me since the obstacle race. I knew that I had to do my very best to end this quickly so as not to lose control of my Quirk, or overheat. The black sports bra that i wore underneath grew cold as the sweat began to dry.

"Bring it on, torch hands." I retorted, bending my knees into a slight squat. "I'm gonna do to _you_ what you did to Ochaco. Times a hundred." It was then that Midnight's shout echoed through my ears.

"Ready! Begin!"

Before Katsuki could make a move I sprung to my left, anticipating his usual right handed blast. Katsuki was strong, that much was certain, but he was predictable. All you had to do was watch him in battle to know what his favorite moves were. He liked big; he liked flashy; he went for the kill. That, and he was right handed.

My bare feet skidded against the concrete, kicking up small particles of dust along with them. I bent my knees for a steadier position, swirling my hands through the air in a clockwise motion before pushing forward, sending the particles flying toward Katsuki's face. He dodged, tiny pops of flames shooting from his palms in an attempt to get rid of the cloud of dust now following him. It was like watching a giant take a swing at a swarm of gnats.

I took the opportunity, taking advantage of his distraction to pull up several larger chunks of concrete from the platform. Gaping craters remained in the platform as the chunks of cement hovered just above them. I stomped on the ground, pushing one hand steadily through the air to send one of the cement blocks hurling straight at Katsuki.

The resulting explosion gave me the cover that I needed to move. Smaller bits of cement rained through the air, mixed with smoke and embers which fell slowly from the air and returned to the cement below. Katsuki roared wildly from amidst the rubble, straining his eyes through the flames, trying to get a glimpse of where I was.

"This ain't gonna be a dodge and run game, here, sandbox!" he called through the smoke. "You can't run from me forever!"

"Who says I'm fuckin' running?" I snarled.

Katsuki froze, realizing too late that I was behind him on his right side. A solid punch to his lower back, made all the more forceful by the shards of concrete now coating my hands, sent him flying across the platform. A feral snarl broke from his lips as he skidded across the concrete, but he was not down for long. Not a moment later he was up again, charging straight at me, propelled forward by spurts of flames from his hands.

"You're gonna pay for that, you bitch!"

I barely had time to think. I had expected such a strong blow to keep him down for more time than that, but I had underestimated his stamina and tolerance for pain. I reacted instinctually, and suddenly I felt the shards of concrete the Katsuki had created by shielding himself from my attack press around me from all sides. I was shocked: I hadn't even moved my arms.

Katsuki rammed into me with more force than I could have imagined. I felt warmth spreading through the concrete that had suddenly become my armor, but it did not burn me. I grunted, grabbing his upper arm with my free hand while the other shielded my concrete covered chest from his flaming hand.

With a snarl I flung him to the ground, ignoring the crack that met my ears, which told me that I had broken something. With another grunt I ripped my arm from his grip, winding up to slam it directly into his gut.

"This is for Ochaco!" I yelled as I brought down my fist as hard as I could.

To my surprise my arm stopped just short of its target. With his free hand Katsuki had managed to get a grip on my arm, stopping me attack only centimeters away from his stomach. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, veins in his forehead standing out against his skin from the exertion of stopping my concrete reinforced blow.

"Like… Hell I'd… Let you… Do… That…" he choked. His voice was forced, strained, and I could tell that I was winning. "Go to hell!"

The explosion that ensued sent each of us careening in opposite directions. With the concrete still encasing me, I was able to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground, though that did nothing to stop me from skating backwards several yards as a result of Katsuki's defensive explosion. I steadied myself, a soft rumbling feeling near my feet alerting me to the fact that the concrete armor on my arm had crumbled due to Katsuki's Quirk. My arm stung, but I ignored it. I could no longer see Katsuki.

"Fuckin' die, you pebble bitch!"

I gasped, realizing too late that Katsuki was now directly above me. With the concrete covering all of me, including my ears, I hadn't been able to hear his approach. I moved to attack, swinging up a single arm toward his stomach as he flew at me. I had not anticipated exactly what it was that he was aiming at. Then I felt it.

Searing, white hot pain. It was a more intense pain than I had ever felt in all my years of life. My vision popped and sparked, colors splattering across my eyes as Katsuki's flames scalded my eyes. Despite my best efforts, I screamed. For a moment, just for a moment, all I could see was a bright white light, the intensity of Katsuki's flames shocking my senses. I felt my cement armor crumble, and I felt a warm liquid slide down the right side of my face.

"What's this?" Midnight announced. Her voice for some reason sounded warbled, out of focus. "Did Bakugo find a weakness in Aizawa's cement armor?"

I blinked; it was the most painful blink I had ever performed. The vision in my left eye continued to slide in and out of focus, and I heard more than saw that Katsuki had repositioned himself several yards opposite of me. I felt my heart rate quicken in a sudden wash of panic: the vision in my right eye was not returning.

My body had been feeling feverish for the entirety of the fight, but it was only then that I really began to notice it. My skin prickled, itching as sweat began to bead out across my skin. I could feel my hands start to tremble as I struggled to focus on Katsuki, who I was sure was leering at me triumphantly from his place across from me.

"Oh, no…" I whispered.

I could feel it now; a chill was beginning to overtake me. I could hear that familiar, flat line sounding ring in my ears. My Quirk was coming for me.

"What's the matter, clay brain?" Katsuki jeered at me. I heard him take several steps toward me, a crackle meeting my ears as he activated his Quirk. "Not gonna give up on me now, are ya?"

That was when it really hit me. The incident back at the USJ danced across my memory for a moment as I felt the chills wash over me. This is what I had been fighting against for the entire sports festival; this was what my mantra was supposed to guard against. I felt my stomach begin to churn. I dug my nails into my palms, drawing blood; I wanted to slap myself, punch myself, anything to snap myself out of this before it could no longer be controlled.

But it was too late. My left eye, my one good eye, had begun to feel like it was rolling around in its socket. I knew this feeling; I remembered this feeling. My consciousness was disappearing.

"If you won't fight me, then get outta the damn ring!" Katsuki yelled, lunging for me at the same time.

I wanted to yell. I wanted to tell him to stop, to turn around, to stay away; but I had no control. My lips would not obey me, my tongue would not obey me. My body was too far gone. My Quirk could not risk any more destruction to its host.

" _You wanna fight?_ " I heard myself roar. I felt myself start to panic even more: that was not _my_ voice. " _Bring it on, bastard!_ "

My hand caught Katsuki's, a thick layer of concrete guarding my palm from his flames. Before Katsuki could say anything, the blood from my face had lunged for him, wrapping around his ankle like a noose before yanking him away from me. I heard a grunt of pain as Katsuki slammed into the ground, the blood rope still holding his ankle in a death grip.

"What the hell —"

Katsuki's words were cut short, the blood tugging him back into the air and slamming him into the concrete for a second time. This time I heard a wet cough escape his mouth, and I could only guess at how much blood he had coughed up.

" _You're going to regret that, Katsuki_ ," I heard myself say.

My body tilted backwards as though my back were broken, my head rolling lazily on my neck as the blood continued to toss him into the air before slamming him again and again into the concrete. My body lurched forward, my legs somehow were the only things that had any control over themselves. My upper body kept rolling in different directions, my arms dancing limply at my sides with every step that I took.

" _You think you're so~ strong, don't you?_ " My voice, just like back in the USJ, sounded almost foreign to me. I wanted to stop this, I had to stop this. I did not want to hurt Katsuki, not like this. " _Lemme show ya what real strength looks like!_ "

The blood threw him through the air, releasing him and letting him fly like a ragdoll toward the end of the platform where he had injured me. A wall of concrete sprung up out of the platform, stopping his body before he could fly out of bounds. I heard another crack, mentally struggling against my own body as it turned itself around to face Katsuki.

Katsuki was bloody, beaten, bruised. I could hear a string of swears escaping his lips rapidly, small crackles and pops meeting my ears as he desperately attempted to escape the trails of blood which now restrained him. He was held in a spread eagle sort of manner, but suspended up in the air by ropes of blood and concrete. Off in the distance I thought that I heard Midnight shouting something, but I could not make out what it was. My body took a step closer.

" _You know that I'm stronger than you, don't you?_ " my mouth asked Katsuki. " _You get it now, right?_ "

"Fuck you!" A giggle was my mouth's reply.

" _You'll never learn…_ " my mouth whispered back at him.

I felt my hand begin to lift, and I had never felt more terror than I had in that moment. I had no idea what my body was about to do to Katsuki. No… What _I_ was about to do to Katsuki.

And that was when I saw him. Off in the distance, toward the opening to the arena, I caught a glimpse of my father. Still in bandages, my father was running toward me as quickly as he could. My heart fell, realizing that I had failed him in front of the entire hero world. I had promised him so wholeheartedly that I would not fail him, and I had betrayed him. I had betrayed him, just like my mother.

"I am not like my mother."

I froze. That had been me who had spoken. With a jolt, I realized that warmth had begun to return to my body. I felt my heartbeat in my ears instead of the flat line buzz, I could feel the pain in my right eye in perfect clarity. I felt myself begin to pant, a laugh of relief and astonishment escaping my lips as I felt my arm, which had been ready to deal the final blow, fall to my side. I grasped at my chest, my fingers clawing my skin; I could feel the pain.

I was back.

I gazed up at Katsuki, his bloodied face lolling against his shoulder from exhaustion. His eyes were open, glaring defiantly in my direction. He had ceased to struggle against the bloody ropes that held him, but his glare told me that he was far from finished with me. I straightened up, and I noticed that my father had stopped running.

"Give up." I ordered. My tone was more calm than I had expected, more commanding. Katsuki shot me a venomous glower.

"Bite me." he bit back, spitting blood at me. It landed on the cement a few yards away from me. "What the hell is with you?"

"Give up, Katsuki." I repeated again. He let out a snarl.

"Like I'd ever give, you fuckin' freak!"

I let the eyelid of my left eye slide shut, pondering his words, and our situation. The entire right side of my face stung and burned, and I could not tell if that eye was open or shut. I sighed heavily, lifting the arm I had dropped earlier up into the air again.

"Then take a nap, Katsuki." I muttered.

Katsuki made to make some sort of retort, but a moment later a hunk of cement flew up from the ground a bashed him solidly over the head. Katsuki's body jerked in response, and a second later he was out. His chin fell into his chest, no longer conscious. I lowered my arm again, bringing Katsuki's body down to the ground as I did so. The crowd was silent, save for murmurs that were too faint for me to hear. I let out another sigh, for the first time enjoying the feverish feeling that plagued my body.

"And… And the winner is Aizawa Daichi!" Midnight declared, stammering noticeably over her own words.

I turned my face toward my father, who was now standing at the edge of the fighting platform. I let my left eye fall back toward Katsuki one last time, surveying the damage that I had done. I had to remember this. I had to burn this image into my memory. This is what my Quirk, unchecked, could do to a person. I tore my eyes away at last, turning to face Midnight.

"No, she doesn't." I said solemnly. Midnight met my gaze. "I forfeit. Katsuki wins." Midnight stared at me blankly for several seconds, as if staring at me could reveal the nature of the confusing events that had just transpired. Then, she nodded.

"Nevermind!" she called loudly to the crowd. "Aizawa Daichi forfeits. Bakugo Katsuki advances to the next round!"

A clamor erupted from the crowd. Whether it was good or bad, I could not tell. I brushed past Katsuki's limp body, moving toward the edge of the platform to where my father was standing, waiting for me. He stretched out one heavily bandaged hand, helping me down from the platform before putting his arm around me.

"I'm so sorry…" I whispered, hot tears stinging my left eye for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

"I'm proud of you." he said softly as he ushered me toward the exit. My breath caught in my throat. "You did good. You didn't break your promise."

I did not stop sobbing until we reached Recovery Girl's office.

* * *

 ***Shimizu: A variety of white peach, most commonly produced in Okayama.**

 **Thank you so much for all of your continued support and reviews!**


	13. Mourn

" _There is nothing more cruel than letting a dream end midway."_

* * *

Something was off.

I sat in my bedroom, my back pressed against the wall behind my bed. Glancing around, I was certain that it _was_ my room. Upon closer inspection, however, I slowly became aware that the colors were slightly off… It was as though each color had been inverted into its opposite. I glanced to my right, my one good eye gazing at the wall that was there. Normally, that would have been where the door to my room was. All that met my gaze was a blank, empty, wall.

That was the moment I knew that I was dreaming.

" _You've figured it out, then?"_

The voice in front of me caught my attention, drawing me out of my brief confusion. I had been certain that there had been nothing except for my desk in front of me just a moment ago, but when I tore my gaze away to stare at my desk, it dawned on me that I was not alone. The chair on my desk had been pulled slightly outward, and there was something sitting in it. I grimaced: it was not something that I very much enjoyed looking at.

The entity that was now sitting in my desk chair stared back at me. At least, I assumed that it was staring: it did not have any eyes. Its skin was not quite skin, its pinkish hue glistening in the strange lighting that filled my dream-state bedroom. The appearance of its skin made my own skin crawl; I was simultaneously repulsed and amused, as the texture and coloring reminded me vaguely of imitation crab.

" _Hey,"_ it barked at me, apparently not pleased with my lack of reply. _"I asked you a question!"_

"It seemed like it was rhetorical." I replied blandly, doing my best to not let my annoyance and revulsion show on my face. "Realized what, exactly? That this is a dream?" The entity released a 'tch' of frustration, draping itself lazily over the back of the chair in a haphazard manner.

" _No…"_ it drawled. _"Not that…"_

Its neck had stretched out to an unnatural length, grazing the back of the chair as it waved in the open air languidly. Its mouth was extremely wide — too wide for comfort. Whenever it spoke I was unable to ignore the freakishly long fangs that occupied its mouth, exposed all too easily due to the lack of any real lips. When the mouth was closed its teeth did not disappear entirely — likely due to the aforementioned lack of lips — instead clenching together in the front of its mouth, glistening in the light.

"What, then?" I pressed. I wanted to get out of bed, but my body was not obeying my commands. "Why are you in my room?"

" _Our room,"_ it corrected, its face still set on my own. I could not for the life of me tell whether or not it was looking at me. _"We both live here, after all. Don't tell me you wanna keep this place all to yourself?"_

"And why wouldn't I?" I snapped, frowning to show it my displeasure. It frowned, as much as that thing could frown for having such large teeth and no lips or actual skin. It looked quite cartoonish. "It is my room, after all. I've never seen you before."

" _Seems like someone hasn't been looking hard enough,"_ it sang. It let out a cackle, and my hair stuck up on end immediately. Was this some sort of villain that had taken control of my mind? I could not be sure. _"I'm with you all the time, and here you are admitting that you've never even noticed me!"_ Its neck had shored up again, resting its head on its shoulders the way most human's heads ought to be. _"Careful now, Daichi, or you're going to hurt my feelings."_

"Tell me about yourself, then," I replied, doing my best to keep my tone calm. I was now starting to feel quite uncomfortable. "So that I can be more careful not to hurt your feelings." My goal was to keep it distracted, to give me enough time to figure it out. The creature laughed, jerking its body ever so slightly, but not getting up from the chair.

" _I'll give you a hint,"_ it cackled. _"What's that lil' thingy that over eighty percent of the population on this planet have?"_ My eyes widened.

"A Quirk," I said, doing my best to keep my anxiety in check. "You're somebody's Quirk." The creature rolled its head. Had the creature possessed any eyes, I was certain that it would have been rolling them at me.

" _Somebody's Quirk,"_ it cried with sorrow, repeating my words back to me. It curled its body around itself, soon growing to resemble a tightly packed ball of pink and white rubber bands. _"That hurts me, Daichi, it really does."_

"I didn't mean to —" I began.

The creature cut me off, unfurling itself from its protective coil swiftly before lunging directly at me. I did not have enough time to move away from it, although with my body still unresponsive to my mental commands, I very much doubted that I could have managed it. Its arms suddenly grew triple their original length, pulsating as they crashed down on the mattress on either side of me. My one good eye widened, shock overtaking me in response to our suddenly all too close proximities. The creature's teeth were bared, but I was certain that it was not smiling.

" _Whose Quirk!"_ it demanded, thin lines of black saliva trailing off of the razor sharp edges of its teeth. I felt my throat begin to get dry. _"Say it! Whose Quirk, Daichi?"_

"I don't know!" I cried desperately. I was waiting for my temperature to spike, for me to be able to move something within the room to help me, but nothing happened. "I'm sorry, please, I don't know!" I continued. I gazed at the creature's face, finding myself wishing more and more that it had eyes so that I could better read its mood. "This is a dream, this is a dream, this is a dream…" My whispers broke through our awkward, tense silence. My lips felt dry, and my voice cracked when I spoke.

" _Stupid,"_ it hissed. Its giant arms pulled away from me, the mattress groaning with every movement that it made. _"This is so stupid."_ it continued. Its body was now coiled like a cobra at the foot of the bed, its arms now reduced to their original size, propping up its torso away from its coiled lower body.

"I'm sorry," I choked out, gazing at the creature with my one good eye. Even without any eyes, I could tell that it was feeling frustrated and disappointed. "Look, if you would just tell me who it is —"

" _What's the point of that?"_ it screeched, cutting me off mid sentence. _"It's no good if you can't guess it!"_

"But —"

" _Shut up,"_ it continued, turning away from me. _"I'm done with you. Wake up."_

* * *

I rose from my bed with a start. Sweat dripped down every part of my body, the sheets below me absolutely soaked with it. My peach colored hair stuck to the sides of my face, tugging uncomfortably at the bandage that covered my right eye. My breathing was heavy and ragged, my heart beating rapidly in my chest as I desperately tried to recover from my all too vivid dream.

I glanced to my right, relief swelling within me when I realized that my door was right where it should be. My room was empty, save for myself and my furniture. My desk chair was pushed in, devoid of any person sitting in it. The only thing that I could place that was different was the clutter of medical supplies spilled out across the top of my desk, gauze messily rewound onto its spool. The trashcan held wads of old gauze and cloth, some of it barely tinted pink from trace amount of blood. I lifted my hand to my right eye, petting the smooth cloth that covered it. My face fell.

"Daichi,"

My father's voice broke through my thoughts, my face snapping toward the still closed door. Through it I could hear the clatter of pots and the clink of china as my father made what I could only assume was to be breakfast. I let out a sigh, desiring nothing more than to put the dream out of my mind. My father called my name again as I touched the bottoms of my feet to the ground, gingerly lifting myself out of bed.

"Coming!" I called back, snagging the grey linen robe that was hung on the wall. I slid it over the plain white nightgown that I was wearing, wanting to cover up the giant stains from sweat that decorated the sides and back.

I walked down the stairs slowly, the faint smell of porridge meeting my nose and growing stronger the further I got down the stairs. Through the entrance to the kitchen I could glimpse my father, now bandage free, setting the table for the two of us to eat. I entered the kitchen, grasping the wall for support as I felt myself briefly lose my balance. I was still feeling a little bit week.

"Morning," my father mumbled. He pulled out my chair for me, placing a hot bowl of porridge in front of me before pushing my chair back in. I glanced up at him, but he was not looking at me. "I was hoping you'd wake up today, but I wasn't sure."

"Thanks for the meal," was my only reply. I picked up a spoon, watching my father through my lashes as he sat down opposite me.

"How're you feeling?" he asked, his voice calm. He took a bite of his porridge, blowing on it first to cool it off. He still was not looking at me.

"Fine," I muttered through a mouthful of porridge. "A little weak… How long was I asleep?"

"Only a day," my father replied. Finally, he met my gaze. There was a small scar below one of his eyes, and I held back a frown. Shigaraki Tomura had given him that. "School's out for two days to allow students to recover from the festival."

"Who won?" I blurted, suddenly feeling very curious. "Was it Shouto?" My father shook his head solemnly.

"No. Bakugo." Despite myself, I choked on my porridge.

"Bakugo?" I yelled, paying no mind to the porridge I had let spill from my spoon. "But —"

"That's right." my father said resolutely. "He only got that far because you forfeited your win. He wasn't pleased. Basically refused to accept the medal."

Disappointment pooled deep inside my stomach. I gazed down at the table, pushing my porridge away from me. If I had just able to keep better control, or had paid better attention and not gotten injured, perhaps it would have been me in first place. I would have rather place first, second — hell, even third — than embarrassed my father the way that I had.

"Shouto got second place." my father continued through mouthfuls of food. "His fight with Midoriya shook him, a little."

"What do you mean?" I asked, growing curious. My father shrugged.

"Ask him yourself." he commanded. He took a sip of juice, swirling it around in his mouth before swallowing. "School's back tomorrow, after all."

"It was because of his father, wasn't it?" I murmured, gazing into my porridge. I held back a chuckle as the thought crossed my mind of reading one's fortune through porridge dregs instead of tea leaves. "He was in a mood all day about him."

"Endeavor?" my father said, chuckling to himself. "Families are tough enough as it is. Imagine having that guy around for a father."

"His mother isn't around, either," I continued, still not looking at my father. "Just like me." My father had stopped eating, his spoon just a ways away from his lips.

"His mother isn't dead —" he began, but I cut him off.

"That's isn't — that's not the point," I stammered, finally looking him in the eyes. He had returned his spoon to his bowl. "Papa, All Might told me about her. He told me that she became a villain." My father's expression had turned cold, his eyes locked on mine unflinchingly.

"All Might has been speaking out of turn." he muttered bitterly, pushing his own porridge away. "He had no right to do that." I frowned.

"So you really did just plan to keep it from me forever, then?" I hissed. My own feelings reminded me of the creature in my dream. "You can't be angry with All Might for doing what you refused to do — for being honest with me!"

"I never said I was going to keep it from you forever," my father replied, his tone still serious. "But there is a time and a place —"

"When?" I yelled, banging my hands against the table. Our bowls of porridge clattered against the table top. "What time, papa, what place? You can't possibly have been waiting for a time when it would suddenly dawn on you: 'hey, this is perfect for telling my daughter that her mother died a villain'!" My father bristled, retreating slightly into his chair.

"I know you know that isn't what I meant."

"What, then?" I spat. I was no longer in my chair, my frustration overtaking me. "What else haven't you told me, papa?"

My father was silent for a very long while. His tired dark eyes regarded his porridge, his gaze making it look as though the food had done something to offend him. I stayed silent, too, focussing on steading my breathing, desperate to be more calm, but not wanting to let go of my anger. I stared at my father, for some reason feeling as though if I were to look away for even a moment, he would be gone. At last, my father took a deep breath, meeting my gaze again.

"Your mother started out as a hero. Her name was Shigaraki Izanami. Heaven's Gate was her hero name," he began. His tone was curt, but I could tell that he was not angry. "Her Quirk, like we've discussed, was an interesting one. The What If Quirk, it was called among heroes. What we first assumed to be a basic healing Quirk, like Recovery Girl's, we later discovered was actually the ability to transport objects — any object, even a body part — into an alternate timeline."

"What does that mean?" I asked, taking my seat again. "An alternate timeline…" My father sighed tiredly.

"As a hero, Izanami used her Quirk to revert injured parts to a timeline where they had never been injured in the first place." he explained calmly. I could hear just a hint of mourning in his tone. "As a villain, she could use that same power to completely destroy those same things that she had sworn to protect and heal. It was like watching an apple wither and rot."

"Just like Shigaraki Tomura's Quirk…" I muttered darkly. I clenched my fists, my good eye falling again on the scar on my father's face. I could feel the resentment churning in my stomach. "We're related, aren't we?" I asked amidst a shaky breath. My father's face twitched.

"We got married early, I was young — she had been with someone else before me. She had a son." he said softly. He was gazing at his palms, and I almost thought that I saw tears glistening in his eyes. "The name Shigaraki was your mother's legal last name… But it was an alias that she adopted for her own reasons. Her son kept his father's name."

"The father's name...?" I repeated, my gaze searching my father's face for more answers. "Then what is Tomura's real name?" My father flinched slightly as though just thinking about it hurt him. "What… What is my mother's birth name?"

"That's enough." my father said, standing up abruptly. I flinched, surprised by the sudden movement. "We can talk about this another time."

"No, we need to talk about this now!" I demanded. I reached across the table, desperately trying to catch my father's arm as he turned to go. All I got was the feeling of fabric against my fingertips. "Papa!" I called after him, but it was too late. I heard heavy footsteps making their way down the hall, a pause, and then a slam. He was gone.

* * *

I had searched for my father all across the U.A. campus, which was mostly deserted due to the days off from school. It had been hours since our conversation at breakfast, and I soon found myself growing more and more frustrated with my inability to locate him. I had never known my father to leave campus other than on official hero business, but clearly he was nowhere to be found within the grounds of U.A.

I stepped through the entryway to the U.A. campus, my white jumpsuit catching in the light breeze as I walked. I was making my way down toward Tatooin Station, hoping that somehow I might find my father there. The streets were bustling with people going about their everyday business, and I tried my best to ignore the frequent stares that I received as more people began to recognize me as the girl who totally lost it at the sports festival.

I sighed, wiping a drop of sweat from my brow as I paused to take stock of my situation. I was at a four way stop, and to be completely honest, I was lost. It was true that my father only ever ventured off campus in order to do hero work. As a result, I rarely went off campus, either. My mouth was dry from thirst, and I was growing increasingly more panicked by both the loss of my father, as well as having clearly lost my sense of direction.

"Aizawa."

I jumped slightly as a hand was placed on my shoulder. I glanced back, relief washing over me when I realized that it was none other than Tokoyami Fumikage who had just appeared behind me. His large, bird like eyes regarded me coolly and, clearly sensing that I was on the verge of a breakdown, he ushered me over toward the coffee shop several yards before the four way stop that I had been standing at, frozen by confusion.

"Tokoyami," I sighed, somehow not feeling at all embarrassed by letting my relief at his presence show. "It's good to see you."

"Likewise," he said in his usual, self-assured tone. "I'm surprised to see you out in town."

"You're tellin' me," I muttered, rolling my one good eye. I felt a twinge of pain in the right side of my face where my eye would be. "What are you up to?"

"I was reading just here," he replied, gesturing toward a book that lay face down on the table he had just planted me at. "I thought I might take advantage of the day off."

"By reading?" I asked without thinking.

"I like reading." he replied stonily. I flushed, embarrassed.

"I don't _not_ like reading," I blurted out.

Luckily, Tokoyami had already moved toward the line inside, returning a few moments later with an iced coffee for me. I sighed, thankful that he had not been around to hear my less than articulate attempt at a recovery.

"Do you need cream?" he asked. I shook my head, sipping the dark coffee through the straw. I could already feel myself beginning to calm down. "Good." he said, nodding in approval as I sipped my black coffee. "Revelry in the dark." I arched a single incredulous eyebrow, but said nothing.

Tokoyami took his place across from me, dog earring the page where he had stopped reading and placing the book back in his bag. I folded my hands in my lap, content to let my coffee sit for a moment while I gazed around the area of town that I was in. There were billboards everywhere advertising various heroes, and there was a pleasant background noise comprised of cars and people talking. I smiled, finally feeling calm again.

"Where were you going?" Tokoyami asked suddenly. I gave a nervous laugh.

"Ah…" I muttered, rubbing my fingers through my hair nervously. "I'm… I'm not really sure, to be honest." He gave me a look of disbelief. "I can't find my dad." I explained. He nodded.

"Having Aizawa-sensei for a father seems like it may be tricky." he said, nodding in understanding. I gave another nervous laugh.

"It isn't so bad." I said, halfheartedly coming to my father's defence.

"He is a moody one."

"You can say that again," I replied before taking another sip of coffee. "I doubt I'll find him. I'll probably just have to wait for him at home." Tokoyami gave me another reassuring nod.

"How is your eye?" he said stiffly.

Normally I found such formal speech off putting, but in Tokoyami's case it turned into something quite comforting. I wondered vaguely if it was because he resembled a cartoon bird. I sighed, touching my fingers to the cloth that covered my eye gingerly.

"It can't be fixed," I admitted sheepishly. "Recovery Girl did her best, so everything else is fine. The skin isn't even discolored. But…"

"Your eye is gone." Tokoyami finished my sentence for me. I nodded. "I suppose even Recovery Girl cannot turn back time." I felt my heart flutter excitedly, thinking back to my father's explanation of my mother's Quirk. If only I had been lucky enough to get a Quirk like that, perhaps I would not be in this situation.

"Yeah, I guess not." I said solemnly. "Can't say that I'm too pleased with Katsuki at the moment…"

"You are not the only one." Tokoyami admitted, taking a sip of his own drink. "After Todoroki recovered a little bit, he had a few choice words for him. As did Iida." Despite my now missing eye, and my anger with the one who had taken it, I felt myself smile.

"It's nice of them to get angry on my behalf." Tokoyami shrugged.

"That Bakugo allows his emotions to run away with him." he said, thinking out loud. "I often wonder how someone like that could make a good hero. He was so focussed on fighting that he disregarded doing irreversible damage."

"I don't think he did it on purpose."

"Perhaps."

The two of us lapsed into silence, drinking our coffees opposite one another for several minutes. Tokoyami was studying me coolly from his seat, his eyes never leaving me even when words failed us. At last, he broke the silence.

"I was unaware that you could control substances that were not dirt." he said seriously. I stopped drinking my coffee.

"So was I, until a little while ago." I replied, setting down my drink. I gazed at my now empty palms, both set lightly on top of my thighs. "I still can't control it very well. Actually, I completely lose control," I admitted. I was laughing, but it was a laugh of both embarrassment and sadness. Tokoyami's gaze was curious, but politely so. "That's the only reason I was able to hold my ground against those villains at the U.S.J."

"I see," Tokoyami said thoughtfully. "That explains a lot…" I nodded again, still gazing at my thighs. "It almost seems as if your Quirk has yet to fully manifest."

"What do you mean?"

"Your Quirk is clearly an Emitter type," Tokoyami began. He took another sip of his drink before leaning closer to me, his tone becoming more serious. "But there are a plethora of Emitter Quirks out there. We all assumed yours was a simple Emitter elemental Quirk, the ability to control the earth. Obviously, that is not the case."

"What's your point?" I asked, looking up to meet his eyes.

"The way that you lose control reminds me of my own Quirk, in many ways." he explained. I frowned. I had never seen Tokoyami lose control before. "Dark Shadow, as the name suggests, grows more unruly if it gets dark, or I leave my emotions unchecked. If things go too far, I eventually lose control over my body. At that point, Dark Shadow is in total control of me."

"Oh," I said, slowly understanding why Tokoyami was bothering to spend so much time with me on this. "I didn't know that."

"Not many of our classmates do," he admitted. "My point, though, is that the way you lose control of yourself indicates, to me anyway, that perhaps your Emitter Quirk is similar to mine. That is, your Quirk manifests within you as a kind of entity, with its own thoughts and abilities for control." I shook my head, laughing in disbelief.

"I've never seen anything like that with my Quirk, though," I sighed, quickly losing faith. "There's no way…" Tokoyami raised what I could only assume were eyebrows.

"You are the daughter of Eraserhead," he reminded me, as though I needed reminding. "Could it be possible that your Quirk is being suppressed?" My eyes widened, recalling my father's words when he had explained to me that he had analyzed my Quirk factor.

" _The interesting thing is that it seems that your body naturally produces antibodies that help you stay out of your Quirk's control. The increase in your body temperature_ is _a fever — your body is fighting your Quirk like it would fight any other sickness."_

"It seems that you think that may be possible." Tokoyami continued, breaking through my thoughts. I glanced up at him again. "If that is in fact the case, then the true nature of your Quirk may have yet to manifest itself." I was speechless, able to do nothing else but stare into Tokoyami's eyes. "If I were a betting person, I would say that your Quirk is an entity like Dark Shadow, with the ability to gain control of your body and power."

* * *

I wandered through the back streets of Musutafu alone, my body growing cold in the evening air, my arms completely exposed to the elements due to the lack of sleeves on my white jumpsuit. In my hands I gripped a map, which Tokoyami had bought for me before tartly asking whether or not I even knew how to read one.

I rounded the corner, lifting the map up in front of me. I turned it in the air, realizing with faint embarrassment that I was in fact holding it upside down. I sighed loudly — I had been going in the entirely wrong direction.

I had been searching for my father all day with no luck. Tokoyami's musings about the true nature of my Quirk still rang in my ears, and each time I recalled them I felt my heart rate quicken, my thoughts each time returning to the creature in my dream. I shook my head, desperate to get the image of that strange creature out of my mind. I refolded the map, making to turn back around so that I could make my way back to the U.A. campus. It was then that something caught my eye.

Far to my left I glimpsed the cemetery, which I had always known was at the very edge of town. Normally, I would have been extremely disheartened upon realizing that I was in fact as far away from U.A. as I could possibly be while still being in the city of Musutafu. At that moment, however, I was thankful that I had lied to Tokoyami about being able to read a map.

There, amongst the stone monuments, stood my father. He had only just stood up, which is what had caught my attention in the first place. With a solemn look on his face he bowed to the headstone in front of him, turning sluggishly away from it and then making his way out of the cemetery. I watched him go, waiting until he had rounded the corner before I made my way, in an all out sprint, toward the headstone where he had just been standing.

I did not stop running until I was directly in front of the monument. It was small, but only slightly smaller than the hundreds of others that surrounded it. I sank to my knees, my one good eye wide with shock as I struggled in vain to catch my breath.

Directly in front of me was my mother's grave marker.

I heard a light smacking sound as a drop of rain hit the stone monument. It was followed by another, and then another, until I found myself caught in the downpour. I ignored it, my one eye still not able to move away from the name engraved on the marker. It had not been the name that I expected, but there was not a doubt in my mind that it was hers.

A small bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums ***** bent at the force with which the rain hit. Their small yellow petals danced in the rain, the tops sometimes grazing the stone behind them. They stopped just short of the name engraved there, the one I knew to be hers, and yet it was unfamiliar to me. I continued to stare, reading the name to myself over and over again in my mind.

Chisaki Izanami.

* * *

 ***yellow chrysanthemums are a traditional funeral flower in japan due to being a symbol of grief and mourning.**

 **as usual, thank you again so much for all of the support! it means the world to me to know that there are people out there who are enjoying my writing!**


	14. Part 2: Surprising

**Heaven and Earth**

 **Part II: Now, Head Out into the Great World!**

" _The deeper the darkness the more dazzling the light shines."_

* * *

The following morning marked our first day back in class following the sports festival. I had actively avoided my father since I had arrived home from searching the city for him, and it seemed that he was committed to doing the same. Both of us were extremely obstinate individuals — like father, like daughter, I believe is the phrase. I had gone to bed early, taking a few crackers out of the pantry without a word before making my way to my room.

My father was gone before I even woke up, probably due to some kind of meeting with other U.A. instructors. I was sure that this day would not be just another day in class, considering the results from the sports festival. I slipped on my uniform, patting my skirt down in an attempt to clear the fabric of wrinkles. I glanced briefly in the mirror, rumpling my hair in an attempt to style it. It had been growing steadily for several weeks now, and had grown a tad longer than I was used to. I brushed it away from my neck, briefly observing how it fell around my neck before losing interest and instead focusing on my right eye.

I had removed the bandages earlier that morning while getting ready. The skin, thanks to the quick work of Recovery Girl, was not even slightly discolored. The lid hung loosely over the empty socket, wrinkling in a manner that I was not yet used to. I sighed heavily, tugging at the loose skin half heartedly as I stared at my own reflection. My left eye fell on the eyepatch on my dresser, which I had found outside of my door when I had arrived home the previous evening.

The eyepatch was a pleasant terracotta color — perhaps a little bit more red than that, even. Three deep, chocolate brown circles decorated the lower right edge, and were raised up slightly from the rest of the material. Each circle grew steadily larger the closer it came to the edge that, when worn, would be the closest to my nose. It had no string, indicating that it was meant to be held in place by the bones surrounding my now empty eye socket. I picked it up, holding it gently in my hands, my fingertips running over the three raised circles that decorated the other edge before putting it on. It looked nice, but my reflection made my heart sink. With a swift shake of my head I darted out of my room and down the stairs, determined not to get sucked into feeling bad while staring at my own reflection.

The school grounds were bustling with students, which was a welcome change from the emptiness that had plagued U.A. for the past two days. Up ahead of me upon my approach to the main building I spotted the familiar two-toned hair of Todoroki Shouto, which caused me to slow my pace to an annoyingly slow snail crawl in an attempt to avoid passing him. I was behind him all the way to our classroom, my gaze only leaving his head a few times to ensure that I was not bumping into anyone.

Once I entered the classroom my ears were met with an onslaught of chatter. Kirishima Eijiro and Sero Hanta were speaking animatedly with Tsuyu, Mina, and Hagakure Toru, their loud voices filling the classroom. Tsuyu was looking rather bored, having decided to rest her chin lazily on top of her arms, which were spread out across her desk. Mina was nodding enthusiastically — it was difficult to determine exactly what Toru was doing since as always, she remained quite invisible.

"I had so many people shouting my name on the way to school!" Eijiro said brightly, waving his arms through the air wildly. Mina continued to nod.

"I got so embarrassed, everyone was staring at me so intently!" Toru added. I held in a laugh, finding it somewhat comical that an invisible person could feel embarrassed about being stared at, just like the rest of us.

"Me, too!" Eijiro continued, giving Toru a nod in affirmation.

"I got consoled by some elementary school kids," Hanta admitted sheepishly. His face was contorted in an awkward sort of way.

"How nice." Tsuyu muttered quietly into her arms.

Tsuyu's head suddenly perked up, apparently noticing that I had entered the room. Shouto still had yet to notice my presence behind him, and he had stopped a little ways into the classroom, taking stock of the commotion caused by his fellow classmates. Tsuyu gave me a tiny wave, grinning a little when our eyes met.

"Daichi," she croaked, causing Hanta, Eijiro, and Mina to look at me. I could only guess as to what Toru was doing, but I assumed that she was looking at me, too. "We were worried about you. How are you?"

"I'm doing alright," I replied, doing my best not to let my nervousness show. "Hearing all of that makes me thankful I don't have to go off-campus." Eijiro nodded knowingly. Tsuyu jerked her wrist, pointing to her own right eye with a single slender finger.

"You're wearing an eyepatch," she noted, gesturing at her own eye as if she had to indicate what she was talking about. Ahead of me I noticed that Shouto was glancing over his shoulder at me. "Is it still healing?" I pursed my lips awkwardly.

"Ah…" I muttered. I was suddenly very aware of my classmates' eyes on me. Katsuki had yet to arrive to class, but I knew what it was that everyone wanted to know. "No, it's done all of the healing that it can. Recovery Girl couldn't save the eye." Ochaco, who I had not realized was sitting at the far end of the classroom, let out an audible gasp.

"Oh, Daichi!" she squeaked. A moment later she slapped her palms over her lips, realizing that everyone in the classroom had turned toward her. "I-I'm sorry, I just… I didn't expect that."

"It's fine," I murmured, doing my best to shoot her the sweetest smile that I could muster. Even without being able to see my face, I could tell that it was awkward. I forced myself not to grimace from the embarrassment.

"But you were amazing out there, Daichi!" Ochaco said, quickly recovering from her own embarrassment. "I had no idea you could control other things,"

"Yeah, you were badass." Eijiro commented, giving Ochaco an affirming nod.

"You showed Bakugo what's what!" Mina said enthusiastically. She swung at the air with her fists as she spoke. "Even if he took your eye, no one's gonna forget how awesome you did in that fight!"

"Ashido…" Hanta muttered warningly. Mina flushed.

"It was scary." Mineta piped up from the other corner of the room. I could have sworn that I saw Shouto roll his eyes. "Scary women…"

"Quiet, you." I replied tartly, throwing Mineta a harsh look. Even with only one eye, I knew I could intimidate him. In fact, it probably made me scarier. I did have an eyepatch, after all.

A sudden noise caught our attention, stopping our conversation. The door had slid open, revealing an unusually sour-looking Katsuki standing in the doorway. His face was contorted in a glower, which was unsurprising. The look of pure outrage upon seeing me standing in the classroom, however, was somewhat out of the ordinary. Truth be told I was a little offended, because considering the circumstances, it seemed as though I was the only one out of the two of us with any place to look that angry.

"Katsuki." I said stiffly, throwing him a look over my shoulder.

Katsuki stepped into the classroom, dropping his bag onto the top of his desk with much more force than was necessary. Izuku had strolled in behind him with Tenya, both of them donning expressions of concern upon realizing that Katsuki and I were interacting. Shouto's eyes had not left Katsuki since he had appeared in the doorway, his mismatched eyes following him carefully, as though he suspected that Katsuki was going to throw a punch at me. Judging from Katsuki's expression, that possibility did not seem wholly out of the question.

"The hell is everyone lookin' at me for?" Katsuki hissed.

He shot a venomous glare around the classroom, but no one seemed to want to say anything. I could not blame them. At last his eyes settled on me, and I felt my body grow stiff beneath his gaze. I was doing my very best to give him nothing to work with. I had no desire to fight with him here. Somehow, now that I had seen him I realized that I was not even that angry with him. Certainly I was a little bit upset; he had taken one of my eyes, after all, and it had all been due to his blatant disregard for safety and his desire to win. I knew that I was right to feel upset with him.

Despite my best efforts, though, the mental image that I had of him — strung up like some sort of macabre ornament by the ropes of blood and rocks that _I_ had been in control of — refused to stop tormenting me. I was not completely innocent in the situation, that much I was sure of. Katsuki was still staring at me, giving me a once-over before continuing.

"What's with the eyepatch?"

Against my better judgement, I laughed. It was not a humorous laugh — no, it was not a laugh of amusement. I could practically feel the bitterness drip out of my mouth like spit as the laugh escaped my lips, my breath catching in my lungs from disbelief. Katsuki had to be the biggest numbskull in all of U.A. — perhaps even all of Japan — if he was not able to put two and two together. My fingertips grazed my eyepatch for just a moment.

"You're kidding, right?" I replied, staring him dead in the eyes. Katsuki merely continued to frown. "I only have one eye now, thanks to you." Katsuki let out a derisive laugh.

"Yeah, right," he spat. In the outskirts of my line of vision I noticed Shouto bristle defensively. "So my attack grazed your face — big deal! I'm sure Recovery Girl had it handled. What, it still needs time to heal, or something?" The classroom had by then fallen completely silent.

"Did you not listen to me after the festival?" Shouto had, at long last, ceased to be able to remain silent. His eyes were still fixed on Katsuki, who now turned to him looking half annoyed, half intrigued. "Your attack didn't graze Daichi — you aim well." His gaze slid over to me, our eyes meeting for the first time in what felt like an eternity. I felt the tenseness that my stomach had been harboring for the past couple of days dissipate almost immediately. "Unfortunately." Shouto finished, his tone icey as he tore his eyes from mine to look back at Katsuki.

"Certainly not a heroic action." I heard Tenya mutter sternly somewhere to my rear.

Tokoyami, who sat in front of Shouto, nodded his head in open agreement. Katsuki by that point was looking mildly astonished, although his trademark frown had yet to disappear. That frown was in it for the long haul.

"You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," Katsuki said through clenched teeth. I shook my head slowly. "You damn nerds, don't fuck with me!" Katsuki had stood up from his seat rather violently, sending it crashing backwards right into Izuku's desk.

"Kacchan, calm down," Izuku murmured, but Katsuki was not having it.

"Don't 'kacchan' me!" he roared. "She beat me to a fuckin' pulp! Shit happens in fights!"

"You seem pretty intact from where I'm sitting," Shouto said coolly. His arms were folded across his chest, and he was still glaring at Katsuki. "Feel free to let me know if I'm overlooking something."

"Hey, screw you!" Katsuki retorted, jabbing an accusatory finger in Shouto's direction. "I don't wanna hear a peep outta you! _Or_ you!" he continued, moving his finger toward me. I made a face. "I only won first place because you two fuckers gave up! I'll never accept it, and I sure as shit won't accept whatever the hell kinda retaliation this is from all of you damn nerds!" He waved his hand wildly, gesturing toward all of our classmates as he spoke.

"Sorry, I'm having some trouble seeing your point," I smirked. I had finally taken my place at my desk next to Shouto and behind Izuku, relief washing over me when I was at last safe behind my desk. "Y'know, what with having only one eye and all."

"D-Daichi…" Izuku stammered, his eyes flashing back and forth between Katsuki and I. "Is now really the time for that?" I chose to ignore Izuku, keeping my left eye set dead on Katsuki. He was fuming by that point.

"Are you telling me I should feel bad for you because you won first place and you feel cheated out of a good fight, somehow?" I pressed, sarcasm dripping from each word I spoke. "Poor lil' Katsuki doesn't feel like he truly earned his keep~" I drawled. Katsuki bristled, and Shouto shot me a warning look. "Save your whining for someone who cares, Katsuki."

A second later I felt my own hands slap over my mouth, my eye wide. Shouto was staring at me out of the corners of his eyes, a faint look of bewilderment just visible on his face. I felt my cheeks getting hot, and I felt the eyes of everyone in class on me. My gaze fell on Tokoyami, who was giving me a knowing look. Our conversation from a day earlier flashed through my mind.

"S… Sorry…" I muttered, still trying to recover from my embarrassment and shock. Katsuki was giving me a look of pure outrage. "I didn't mean… To…" I trailed off, not quite knowing how to finish my sentence. _Had_ I meant to say that?

My internal struggle was cut short by the door sliding open. The eyes of my classmates were thankful drawn toward the front of the classroom, and I realized that my father had just entered the room. He was looking somehow more disheveled than usual, and the scar below his right eye caught my attention yet again. I bit my lip, my thoughts again returning to Shigaraki Tomura and my mother, who I now knew to be Chisaki Izanami.

"Aizawa-sensei," Tsuyu chirped from her place on the other side of the classroom. "I'm happy you were able to remove your bandages."

"The old lady got over dramatic with her treatment," my father explain. His fingers ran over his face, lingering on his new scar for only a moment before pretending as though he had intended to brush his hair out of his eyes. "But let's put that aside. Today's heroics informatics period is… A little special." he finished lamely. His half hearted attempt at an introduction still managed to grab the attention of the class.

"It's time to formulate your codenames." my father said, raising his voice as the class broke out into excited chitchat. "Your hero names."

"Oh my god, yes!" Mina squealed from her chair.

"Finally!" Eijiro gasped. Katsuki cast him an excited, yet no less classically-Katsuki-aggressive, look. Shouto and I sat in our seats, simply staring stoically up at my father. "Now this is makin' my chest swell!" he declared. I made a face — what did that even _mean_?

"This is related to the draft nominations by pros, which I mentioned the other day." my father continued, his face remaining decidedly stony despite the sudden eruption of excitement from my classmates. "The nominations will truly start mattering only after you've gained some experience and your adaptable fighting ability is judged during your sophomore and senior years. In other words, the nominations you're getting this year are more akin to expressions of interest in your future potential." I noticed several of my classmates' giddy expressions falter.

"Those damn grown-ups, playing with our emotions…" Mineta hissed under his breath up in front of Izuku, who was remaining attentive in spite of my father's disheartening words.

"On top of that, be aware that it's not that rare that these interests can dry up come graduation, or may simply be dropped altogether." my father explained stoically.

I tilted my head, observing as Tsuyu and Mina exchanged nervous looks with one another. Ochaco caught my eye, giving me a comforting smile from her seat behind Tenya. Toru raised her hand, bouncing a little as my father gestured toward her, indicating that she was allowed to speak.

"So I guess the nominations we received are like personal hurdles, then!" she exclaimed.

The sleeves of her school uniform shirt moved closer together and farther apart several times in a row, indicating that she was clapping her hands together. My father gave her a nod before turning back toward the blackboard.

"Yes." my father replied. He was all business, barely pausing to answer Toru as he snatched a small piece of chalk from below the blackboard. "Now, the tally of nominations are as follows."

Each of us watched with bated breath as my father began writing the results up on the blackboard. The sound of the chalk on the writing slat only seemed to escalate the palpable tenseness in the classroom. I saw various pairs of eyes darting around, either to desperately seek reassurance from friends or to gauge reactions of their fellow classmates.

Shouto and I exchanged looks, and although we had not spoken much since our spat during the sports festival, I felt the knot in my stomach unwind a considerable amount as his eyes met my one, probably very nervous-looking, blue eye. His lips twitched slightly, indicating the classic Todoroki Shouto almost-smile. I smiled back, somehow not caring about the hot feeling in my cheeks as, unsurprisingly, I began to blush. A sudden tapping sound drew the two of us out of our silent exchange, each of our gazes directing themselves back to my father and the blackboard.

"Typically, the results are more balanced," my father explained, gesturing behind him toward the writing on the board. "But, this year, the attention was mainly aimed at three particular students."

My eye widened, and I felt the eyepatch held in my right eye fidget a little bit in response to the surprise that now decorated my face. I felt relief and excitement wash over me like a warm shower, my gaze fixated on my father's handwriting on the board. My own name had caught my attention: it sat directly below Shouto's, right above Katsuki's. Despite myself I felt an enormous smile stretch out across my face, and I noticed with excitement that my father was looking directly at me, a guarded smile tugging at his lips.

"Damn!" Denki exclaimed. He was now leaning back in his chair, his hands tugging at his hair in exasperation. "It's so clear it's practically black and white!"

I was desperately trying to get ahold of myself, not wanting to seem as though I was rubbing it in, but in spite of my best efforts I could not get a grip on my emotions, much less on my smile.

"Those pros have _no_ eye for discernment," Aoyama Yuga sighed, observing the tips of his fingers delicately as he spoke. His name was not written on the board at all.

"Looks like the pros have their own ideas about how the award ceremony should've gone," Eijiro commented, shooting Katsuki a sly look. "Aizawa forfeited, after all, but only after she'd been declared the winner." My smile flickered as Katsuki shot a glare in my direction. "Seein' a certain someone all straight jacketed on the winner's stand may've scared them off!" Eijiro jeered.

Katsuki turned his face away from him to shoot a terrifying snarl at Eijiro, who merely laughed. The two of them shared a camaraderie that, frankly, I could not understand no matter how hard I tried.

"Pros ain't gonna be scared!" Katsuki yelled in retaliation, balling his hands into fists.

"Congratulations, Shouto," I whispered as Katsuki and Eijiro continued to yell semi-playfully with one another. "Can't say I'm surprised. Papa said you won second — clearly the pros think you did well."

"A lotta that's gotta be because of my dad," was his muttered reply. He was glaring at the blackboard, clearly less impressed with the results than the rest of us were. I pursed my lips.

"Maybe some of it," I admitted, glancing back at the board. "But give yourself some credit. You're an excellent fighter, and you'll make an excellent hero."

My left eye slid over toward Shouto again while still facing the board, and my heart fluttered excitedly as I noticed that there was a light pink color appearing on his cheeks. His arms were still folded tightly across his chest, as though determined not to show any excitement. His expression, however, told a different story; I could see a faint smile on his lips, not to mention the blush. I could not tell how much of his expression was from what I had said, and how much was from the results.

"Wow! Wow!" Ochaco's exclamation drew my attention over to her, where she was shaking Tenya back and forth ecstatically from her seat. "Tenya, you and Tokoyami are practically neck and neck!"

I glanced back at the board, shooting an affirming nod in Tokoyami's direction upon realizing that his name was written right below Katsuki's. He returned my nod, though it was really more of an upwards jerk of his head. In front of me I noticed that Mineta had turned around to talk to Izuku, his face painted with disappointment.

"None, huh?" he said shakily, grasping at Izuku's hands. "I was afraid of that…"

"Yeah…" Izuku replied, nodding numbly as he shifted in his desk.

Whether it was instinctually or on purpose I could not tell, but Izuku removed his hands from his desk before Mineta could grab them. I held in a chuckle — Mineta was truly _persona non grata_ in our classroom.

"Based on this," my father began. The classroom quieted, all of us redirecting our attention back to our teacher. "Regardless of whether or not you received any nominations, I'll be having you all go get some so-called workplace experience." Everyone in the classroom suddenly perked up. My father ignored this, choosing to barrel onward with his speech. "Well, you've all dipped a toe in the world of the pros, unfortunately…" His tone grew dark for just a moment. The face of Shigaraki Tomura flashed through my thoughts, but thankfully did not linger. "But, I think experiencing the activities of pros firsthand will prove to be more fruitful training than your experience in the U.S.J."

"And it's 'cause of that that we need hero names, huh?"

Sato Rikido, a classmate of mine with a Quirk called Sugar Rush, had piped up from his place beside Ochaco. She smiled brightly, engaging with him and eagerly matching his vigor. She pumped her fists in the air to display her excitement.

"Things have gotten fun all of a sudden!" she chortled.

Ochaco's cheeks were pink from the excitement, and I felt a smile tug at my lips again. It was people like Ochaco that made me thankful for a place like U.A., which until my enrollment, had merely been the place where I lived.

"Of course placeholder names are fine, too, at this point." my father explained. He was shifting through some papers on his desk distractedly while he spoke.

"Because if not, it'll be hell from here!"

I started, jumping slightly in my seat in response to the unexpected outburst. It had come from the door, which had slid open while my father had been talking. Every head in the classroom snapped in that direction, eyes widening as we realized that none other than Midnight had appeared in the doorway.

"The names you pick now," she continued, sauntering through the door with a sauciness that I had come to expect from Midnight. "Those are the names you'll come to be known by in the world, now!" Her arms draped seductively behind her head, and she came to a full stop next to my father, who was still staring at his desk in the front of the classroom. "In many cases, the names stick once you go pro!"

"Midnight!" gasped several students in unison. Midnight gave us a nod of acknowledgement, reveling in the excitement that had returned to the classroom. My father peered over at Midnight from beneath his shaggy hair.

"Well, she's not wrong." he muttered, ignoring the animated chatter that was bubbling across the classroom. "I'll be having Midnight evaluate your naming sense, since I definitely can't."

"Eraserhead's not the worst name," I shrugged as my father shot a smirk in my direction.

By my side I was certain that I heard Shouto chuckle, but when I turned to check he was still staring at the front of the classroom with his arms over his chest. My father cleared his throat to indicate that our attention should still be on him. He tapped his desk listlessly before continuing.

"The way your futures end up will approach the image projected by the name you choose." he said. "It's all down to that old saying: names and natures often agree. Take All Might, for example."

My father raised his hands as he spoke, and I noticed that he was gripping his trusty sleeping bag in his fingers. The worn mustard yellow fabric stood out against his usual monochromatic outfit, a low rustle meeting my ears as he fluffed up the sleeping bag, preparing it for his coming relaxation time. For what felt like the millionth time that day, I stifled a snicker.

The class grew quiet as Midnight passed a stack of white cardstock out to each row of students. A dark blue border decorated the edge of the thick white paper, which my fingertips traced gingerly as my thoughts turned to the daunting task of hero names. My gaze darted around the classroom, watching as my fellow classmates pondered the same thing. My one eye returned to the blank paper in front of me, and I bit my lip in concentration while I flipped a pen around in my fingers.

It was not easy, thinking of a hero name. The most difficult part, at least for myself, was that I still was uncertain as to what my Quirk actually was. It was clear enough by only briefly considering the pro heroes that I was familiar with that in many ways one's Quirk determined the name. Or, at least one's name often took considerable inspiration from the Quirk that the hero possessed.

My Quirk was viral; that was what my father had told me. Rather, the process it worked through greatly resembled how viruses operated. It copied itself into other objects — into other creatures — infecting them with itself, thereby allowing me to control them. My brow furrowed thoughtfully as I continued to consider my options. In truth, I was still in denial about the new aspects of my Quirk that had come to light in recent events. At that time, I was much more disposed to continuing to think of my Quirk as a simple elemental Emitter type. My ability to control rocks and dirt represented my Quirk comfort zone.

My gaze returned to the paper. I pressed the tip of my pen to the blank sheet of paper, focussing on precision as I began to write my name of choice. The thought did not cross my mind, at least at that point, that this name would be merely a placeholder during my upcoming journey of growing familiarity with my Quirk.

Aoyama Yuga was the first of us to go. He stood at the front of the classroom, boldly declaring that his hero name would be "I Cannot Stop Twinkling." This, of course, was met by unanimous blowback from the class, my father, and Midnight. Clearly, a full sentence would not work well as a hero name. Mina was next, instructing for us to call her "Alien Queen." This, too, had problems, because it was a reference to the movie _Alien_ : the alien in the movie was supposed to be the villain.

At last it was my turn. I stood up from my desk, for some reason suddenly feeling a little nervous. I felt the eyes of my classmates — as well as my father, who was slumped in the back of the classroom in his sleeping bag — on me as I made my way toward the front of the classroom. Taking my place behind my father's desk I fiddled with the piece of paper that I held in my fingers, which was still facing toward my stomach.

"Ah…" I muttered shakily, gazing around the classroom. Katsuki was looking sour, as usual, but Ochaco was giving me an encouraging smile from the back of the classroom. Shouto gave me a nod, urging me to continue. "After some thought, I decided on this…" I said while flipping my paper around.

The word "Golem" stood out in black marker on the front side of the paper. I kept my good eye fixed on my classmates, who were absorbing my name choice diligently from their seats. Shouto was wearing an expression that I was having some trouble interpreting, but Ochaco was still beaming from her seat. My father's eyebrows were knotted together, apparently concentrating very hard on my name choice.

"I, uh… I chose this one because in folklore Golems are made from clay or mud," I explained, not really sure about how to proceed. "Since I can manipulate earth I thought it was fitting, since Golems are basically just earth molded into a human form and controlled through magic…" Midnight was staring at my paper intently from her place next to me. "I… I thought it seemed fitting…"

"But you can control other things besides dirt," Denki said.

Denki clearly had said what almost everyone else was thinking, judging from the several nods of agreement I saw from other classmates. From his desk Katsuki was eyeing my paper shrewdly.

"You can fuckin' say that again," he growled. I made a face.

"My thanks to the peanut gallery." I bit back, shooting him a glower that matched his own in intensity. "Is it weird?"

"I think our fellow classmates are merely surprised that you would limit yourself in such a way," Tenya offered from his seat. I glanced away nervously.

"Aizawa may not fully understand her Quirk just yet," Tokoyami interjected. I felt relief wash over me as he came to my rescue. "Obviously none of us do, either."

"Until that happens, Golem seems like a fine placeholder!" Midnight declared. I felt her hand being placed on my shoulder, which gave me reassurance. "It communicates your specialty, which in the end boils down to how you're probably going to use your Quirk out in the field!"

"You can always change it to something more suitable down the road." my father added from his sleeping bag. He gave me a reassuring nod, and I felt my stomach settle. "When you understand your Quirk better, it'll be easier."

Ochaco and I exchanged smiles as I sat down, and Tsuyu gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up as she headed to the front of the classroom to share her own hero name. I grinned from ear to ear as she turned her paper around to reveal her name: Froppy.

* * *

Class ended without much of a hitch. Shouto grew steadily more stoic as class went on, which was made more obvious by the fact that he had chosen to simply use his birth name as his hero name. Tenya had followed suit, and I could tell that the two of them were both still relatively rattled from the sports festival. More than that, I had seen the news of Tenya's older brother, Ingenium, on the news very early in the morning. I had not had the chance to speak with him about it, but I also figured that it was not my place, as I did not know him extremely well.

I was waiting outside of an office for the Department of Support, several sheets of paper grasped tightly in my hands. I had drawn a quick sketch of a new hero costume in response to our pending workplace experience requirements. What with the choosing of hero names and all, it seemed that my simple black leotard may have outworn its welcome, literally.

We only had two days to choose where we wished to perform our workplace experiences. My goal for this experience was to get stronger, and I had been given many options for places to work. I had briefly considered taking Snake Hero Uwabami's offer, but had been swiftly repulsed upon realizing that she was very much in the public eye — while it was certainly true that Uwabami was a pro hero, even more than that, she was a celebrity. When it came to the media, I took after my father: I was not a fan.

"What are you doing here?"

It was a girl's voice that had broken my concentration. I glanced up, realizing to my extreme annoyance that none other than Yaoyorozu Momo was standing in front of me. She was also holding some papers in her hands, and was eyeing me as though I had done something to offend her just by sitting outside of the Support Department office.

"I could ask you the same thing." I replied tartly, meeting her gaze. "Is Shinso with you?" Momo rolled her eyes.

"I haven't seen that guy," she told me. "We aren't in the same class anymore."

"What happened?" I asked, suddenly feeling very concerned for my friend's well being. Momo smiled smugly.

"Oh, you didn't hear?" she said. I could tell that she was making fun of me — Momo was many things, but she was not subtle. "Someone dropped out of class 1-B after the festival. I made my appeal, and I've been granted the opportunity to enroll in the hero course." My one good eye widened. "At the moment it's only probationary."

"Did Shinso try as well?"

"Maybe." Momo told me. "But I had a few recommendations up my sleeve."

"I see…" I muttered. I looked down at the paper in my hands, wondering silently how Shinso was doing in the face of all this. "Well, good for you." Momo snorted, and I felt something stir in the back of my mind.

"I don't have time for your sarcasm." Momo said, making to knock on the door I had been waiting outside of. I smirked.

"Oh, well, in that case," I said through a sneer, my one eye meeting hers. "I think that the wrong person got into the hero course."

"Watch your mouth, Aizawa." she warned. No one had come to answer the door, and so she instead put her papers in the small mail holder outside of the door. "You'll have to learn to fight with no eyes if you aren't careful."

"If I recall correctly _you_ lost to _me_ at the festival," I murmured. I stood up, putting myself on eye level with her. "You may be in the Heroics Department now, but don't think that makes any difference to me. I don't acknowledge you."

"Like I need your acknowledgement," Momo bit back, taking a step closer to me. I followed suit.

"You talk big for someone who lost," I jeered. "What was it that you told me? I stole your place here, or something?" Momo sent a ferocious glare at me. "If you don't think that you could pass the entrance exam, then you shouldn't even be here."

"Why you —"

"Daichi."

The voice of Todoroki Shouto tugged Momo and I out of our brief turf war. I turned my head, allowing my good left eye to settle on him. He looked calm, his two-toned eyes moving smoothly back and forth between the two of us, gauging the situation. He sighed, putting both of his hands into his pockets. He had his school bag slung over his shoulder, indicating that he had intended to be headed home.

"What are you doing?" Shouto said, his eyes at last coming to rest on me.

I felt a shrill voice in my head yell at Shouto to butt out, but I chose to instead remain silent. I shot a look at Momo, and the two of us backed away from one another, neither of us saying a word. Shouto continued to stare at us, waiting for one of us to speak. Instead of talking, Momo simply turned on her heel and walked briskly away from the two of us, muttering something that I could only assume was an insult under her breath.

"That's not like you." Shouto commented as I, too, began to walk away from where I had been sitting. I stuffed the papers I was holding into the mail holder, brushing past Shouto.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snapped. Shouto matched my pace, walking next to me as we both made our way out of the building.

"Picking fights with other students in the middle of the halls," he clarified, his tone stony. "That's not like you."

"Because you know me so well." I muttered. Shouto was quiet for a moment, and out of the corner of my eye I could see a vague look of hurt cross his face.

"Well enough." he said finally. We were outside now, the evening sun temporarily blinding me. "Well enough to know who you're going to choose for your workplace experience, anyways."

"Oh yeah?" was my incredulous reply. Shouto shot me a small smirk, but did not say anything. "You don't know."

"I do." he insisted. The two of us lapsed back into silence. After a few minutes, he spoke again. "I'm sorry for what I said at the festival."

"Yeah, you've already apologized."

"I'll keep apologizing until you forgive me." Shouto said. He took a step closer to me. "Not to mention that I was obviously wrong about you… About your Quirk."

"You think?" I scoffed. Shouto was by now quite close to me.

"Like I said, I'm sorry."

I allowed my left eye to come to rest on his face. His expression was one that I had not seen on him before. It was serious, persistent, intent. His white and red hair shifted in the light breeze, and I suddenly became very aware of both his eyes, which had been locked on me and had not moved since we had come outside. I shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling very hot.

"Try again tomorrow." I said softly, at last looking away from him. I thought that I heard a low chuckle escape from his chest.

"I'll try every day until the internships are over." he replied. He turned away from me, making to leave campus. "I hope you'll forgive me by then."

"It'll be hard to do that everyday when we're in two different places!" I called after him as he made to exit the gate. He paused, turning around to meet my gaze one last time. A triumphant smirk was plastered on his face.

"You're going to the Endeavor Hero Agency," he stated. I blanched. "I am, as well."

Without another word Shouto turned on his heel and strode out of the gate, disappearing into the streets of the city. I was left alone on campus, my one eye wide with shock. Out of all of the places that had made me offers, I had chosen Endeavor Hero Agency for two major reasons: one, he was the number two hero, and I knew that if anyone could help me get control of my powers, it was Endeavor; and two, Shouto hated his father, and I was still upset with Shouto. I frowned.

Damn. He got me.

* * *

 **Thank you again to all who reviewed/followed/favorited. Thanks very much to RosanaDoodles for making some fanart for this story! it's adorable, so if you would like to check it out let them know!**


	15. Emerging

" _Never forget who you want to become."_

* * *

I was in a dream.

More accurately, I was having a dream about a specific memory of mine. We were at a Shinto temple outside of our home city. It was overcast, but the sun was still barely visible as it shone on the small group of us that had gathered together. My father was standing on the stairs of the temple, and in his hands he was clasping a white box that was covered in a white cloth, which was customary in the Shinto tradition for funerals and cremation. In my dream I could feel my eyes stinging; I was crying.

My father was speaking with the small group of heroes who had accompanied us to the temple. Some were bowing, giving my father their condolences, while others were continuing to talk amongst themselves. I was sitting alone by a tree, barely visible to the people who were still congregated by the temple.

I remembered this scene vividly, now, though I had not thought about it for some time. It was my mother's funeral, and my father and I were preparing to transport my mother's ashes.

"You aren't going to go talk to those heroes?"

It was a man's voice that had spoken. My body, numb with grief, and in my young age not understanding anything that was going on, turned toward where the voice had come from. There was no fear within me, only sadness. Above where I sat stood a young man; he was older than me, but younger than my father. His short dark hair shifted in the breeze as rain clouds began to move steadily toward us. I shook my head.

"No," I croaked, wiping a tear with the sleeve of my dress. "I don't feel like it."

"You sure do cry a lot for a child of heroes," the man muttered.

It was difficult to hear him clearly, as he was wearing a mask over the lower half of his face. My memory-dream was becoming a little fuzzy. The man was still looking at me, though I could tell that his attention was focussed on my father and the gaggle of hero acquaintances.

"After all of this, do you still want to become a hero like your parents?" he asked me softly.

"All… of this…?" I repeated back to him. He nodded. "My mother is dead…"

"Ah," he sighed. He squatted down suddenly, so that he was then eye level with me. The tip of his mask-covered nose was only a few inches from my face. "It seems you're suffering from a little amnesia. Can't be helped. You're young, after all."

I reached out toward him slowly, feeling unsure about whether or not he was actually there. None of the other people seemed to be noticing him, but then again, we were some ways away. He flinched, realizing that I was reaching out to touch him. He pulled his hand, which was covered with a surgical glove, away from me quickly.

"Don't do that," he instructed. I put my hand back in my lap. He stood up again, his entire attention now focused on me. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Well, I just came to check up on you because _she_ asked me to. It seems like you will be just fine,"

"She?" I repeated his words for a second time. He did not explain, and instead turned to go.

"You can tell your father that your uncle stopped by, if you want." he told me over his shoulder. I thought I saw something like malice in his eyes, but I was too young to understand what that meant. "You will see the two of us again someday soon, I'm sure."

"The two of us…?" The man smirked.

"When it happens, you will understand what I meant."

* * *

" _Hello, again._ "

I felt my body shoot up out of bed. I was stiff as a board, and I could hear my heart beating in my ears. It was accompanied by a slight ringing noise, one that had, for the last several weeks, plagued my every move and thought. It was the sound that came when my Quirk overtook me. I glanced around me room, my one eye falling on the door. It was there, so it seemed that I was not dreaming.

"H… Hello…?" I whispered, my voice hoarse. There was no responding movement in my room.

" _What an annoying reply…_ " I heard the same voice say. My head whipped around, desperately trying to identify the source of the voice. " _First day of workplace experience, how exciting!_ " The voice was shrill, almost childlike. It made my skin crawl. " _Are you gonna let me out? Or are you gonna keep pushing me back down, as usual?_ "

My eye continued to dart around my room, which was dimly lit in the morning sun. My eye fell on the chair by my desk, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. This was a voice I recognized: it was the voice of the creature from my dream. But, as I continued to glance around the room, I was certain that I was not dreaming. That could only mean one thing.

" _That's right~_ " the voice sang excitedly. I felt my knees start to tremble below my sheets. " _I'm inside your head!_ "

I clasped my palms to my ears, squeezing my eyes shut as if doing so would rid me of that voice. My whole body was shaking, and I felt an uncomfortable itching feeling begin to travel up my spine. I opened my mouth, trying to speak, but all that met my ears was a high pitched cracking sound as my dry throat failed to produce any words.

A sudden knock on my door made me jump. My eye snapped open, giving my room another once over, just in case in the time my eye had been shut the creature had appeared. I was still completely alone. Another knock came.

"Daichi," my father's voice said. I felt my heart begin to settle down. "Wake up, you'll be late for your first day."

I put on my uniform swiftly, shoving both my dream and the worries about the voice in my head to the back of my mind as I got ready for our first day of workplace experience. I was downstairs in a flash, grabbing a rice ball out of the fridge before meeting my father at the door, where he was waiting for me. He shot me a small smile, handing me a thermos full of tea as the two of us exited our home to begin walking to the train station where our class was to meet. In my hand that was not holding the thermos I held a metal suitcase that housed my new hero costume.

"Did you sleep alright?" my father asked me as we exited the U.A. campus. The train station was not a far walk. I shrugged.

"I had a dream…" I muttered, taking a sip of tea. "A dream about mama's funeral." My father said nothing, but I saw his face spasm a little bit.

"Oh?" he said at last. We had made it a couple of blocks already. "You don't talk about that day much."

"I remembered something," I said. I glanced at him with my one good eye, trying desperately to read his mood. It was not working. "A man who came to see me that day."

"I don't remember that." my father told me as we rounded the corner.

"You wouldn't. I was behind a tree, waiting for you to come out of the shrine with her ashes." My father gave me nothing save for a low mumble in the back of his throat. "Do you remember that?"

"Yes." he confessed. "I remember finding you there before we went home."

"The man told me he was my uncle," I admitted.

My father stumbled suddenly, momentarily freezing mid walk, causing him to trip through the air ever so slightly. I could tell that he found the information off putting.

"As in your mother's brother?" he asked me. Up ahead I could see the train station, and I knew that I did not have much time left to get any information out of him.

"Unless you have a brother, I'm assuming so." My father nodded curtly.

"They didn't speak much… Ever… While we were married…" he said, his tone listless as he stared up at the sky. "Her brother was a piece of work."

"Did you know him?"

"No." he admitted. "Only of him."

"Ah…" I sighed.

"Have you seen him since then?" I shook my head, and my father sighed with relief. "Daichi, stay away from that man if you ever encounter him again. He's dangerous."

"So he's a villain like mama, huh?" My father pursed his lips.

"I don't pretend to know what he's been up to since your mother's death." he said slowly. Up ahead I could now make out the faces of my classmates, who were waving at us. "All I know is what little your mother told me. It would be best if you stayed away from someone like him."

"What's his name?" I asked, my heart starting to beat very quickly by then.

I had to know. I wanted him to admit to me what my mother's last name was. If I could just get him to tell me what her brother's name was, that would be all that I needed. My father pondered my question for a moment before speaking.

"The brother…" he murmured thoughtfully. "His name, it was —"

"Aizawa-sensei!"

Ashido Mina cut my father's sentence short with a loud yell — louder than necessary, as we had now gotten quite close to the other students. My face fell, glancing back at my father; he seemed content with the fact that our conversation had been cut short. I took my place with the rest of the students, settling in near Izuku, Shouto, Tenya, and Ochaco.

"You've all got your costumes, right?" my father said as he lead us into the station. "Obviously wearing them while you're not on duty is prohibited."

"Got it~!" Mina said, still shouting.

"Don't stretch out that 'got it,' Ashido. And you all remember to mind your manners in your places of work, alright?"

With that our class split up depending on where each of us were headed. I noticed Ochaco and Izuku dawdling near Tenya for a moment, but I let them be. I assumed that it had something to do with his emotional state since his hero brother, Ingenium, had been taken out of commission by the hero killer. I gave my father a small wave, which he returned, watching me with a look of vague pride as Shouto and I boarded our train. I watched him fade away as our train left the station, regret welling in the pit of my stomach.

He had not said what my uncle's name was.

* * *

"You seem a little out of sorts this morning." Shouto remarked coolly.

The two of us were walking down the halls of the Endeavor Hero Agency. I was doing my very best to keep calm, but was still plagued by anxiousness due to the unexplained voice in my head. It had been appearing intermittently throughout the day, resembling an internal monologue, commenting on the goings-on of my life at various times. But this voice was not my own, that much I knew. I pursed my lips, pausing at a water fountain to get a drink.

"No, I'm not." I bit back in between slurps of water. "I'm just trying to concentrate."

"On what?" Shouto scoffed. "We haven't even done anything yet."

I straightened myself up, tugging at my new hero costume nervously as I did so. I had gotten my new costume the day before, having put in a request with the support department several days earlier. Like Ochaco, I wore a skintight bodysuit. Per my request, it was made out of wicking material just like my old one had been; I had to do my best to keep my body temperature down. It was a rich terracotta color, slightly lighter than my eyepatch, with darker scale-like features around my hips, shoulders, and chest. They were raised up slightly from the rest of the costume, made from a denser material that was meant to defend parts of my body from slicing attacks.

The costume covered me entirely, the high neck not ending until it reached almost halfway up my cheeks. It even covered my feet, the costume in that area resembling toe socks, the fabric slightly more thin so that I could feel the ground beneath me. It was a feeling which always comforted me during battle.

"Sorry," I muttered tiredly, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "I didn't sleep well."

"Any reason in particular?" Shouto pressed. I bit my lip, mulling my answer over briefly before replying.

"I had a memory…" I began. The two of us were making our way down the hall toward the exit, as we were meant to meet Endeavor outside for our first day of workplace experience. "A memory of the day my mom died."

Shouto was silent for a moment, watching me carefully as we continued walking together toward the building entrance, where his father would be waiting. He was studying me, his mismatched eyes fixed on my face. I was beginning to feel a little embarrassed with him watching me so intently.

"I didn't know your mother was dead." he said finally.

"Yeah… I was very young. I don't remember it well…"

"How did she die?" I made a face, slightly surprised at his forwardness. "Sorry," he said quickly. "You don't need to answer that."

"I've been wondering about that, myself…" I said. "My father doesn't talk about it much."

"Aizawa-sensei doesn't seem like much of a talker."

"You hit the nail on the head." I said through a laugh. "But the circumstances of her death are murky for me. Sometimes… Sometimes, I wonder if it was All Might who killed her." Shouto's eyes widened, looking astonished.

"All Might?" he repeated. His shock was evident in his tone.

"I learned recently that my mother became a villain." I admitted. It was strange telling someone these things, but somehow with Shouto it was very easy to let the things that had been filling my mind out. "I'm not sure when that was."

"I see…" he muttered darkly. He tore his eyes away from me, staring at the floor for a moment as we neared the doors that would lead us outside. "Thank you." he said. I looked at him, puzzled.

"What for?"

"For opening up to me." he explained as he reached for the door handle. He opened the door for me, ushering me outdoors. "You don't do it often. But it's nice when you do."

I felt my face flush a dark pink. We stepped outside together, side by side, our eyes and ears met with an onslaught of noise from pedestrians and cars. Endeavor was waiting for us outside on the street

"Took the two of you long enough." Endeavor said sternly, turning to us. I grimaced, looking determinedly at my own toes as Endeavor glared down at us. "I was surprised that you accepted my offer, Shouto." Shouto said nothing, but merely continued to stare up at his father. I was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable. "Does this mean you have decided to follow me?"

"Absolutely not." Shouto replied coolly. "I will continue to forge my own path. I came here for other reasons."

I felt my cheeks heat up again just as the blush from earlier was beginning to subside. Endeavor glanced between Shouto and I for a moment before scoffing and turning away. He lead us down the street wordlessly as we began our first day of workplace experiences.

Todoroki Enji was nothing if not stern. Throughout the day we intervened in various petty crimes, which Endeavor sometimes allowed us to participate in minimally, while other times he would merely tell us in his usual detached yet fatherly voice that we should stand back and watch. Shouto seemed surprisingly comfortable throughout the whole day, only reverting to his trademark icy nature when his father — accidentally or on purpose remained unclear — stepped a little too far over the line with his son.

Before I knew it our first day was over. My and Shouto's costumes were each neatly folded into their respective suitcases, which we each clasped tightly in our hands as we exited the Endeavor Hero Agency. I was, quite frankly, exhausted. We had walked more than I had walked the day I had gotten lost in the city, and I could feel my feet crying out for relief. It did not help that I wore no shoes with my hero costume. In a fight I typically enjoyed feeling the ground close to my feet, but on a day that was riddled with strutting around on concrete, I had to admit that it was not the best choice. Perhaps my hero duties could take me toward something like natural disaster relief, something that was fully immersed in the elements.

"Are you hungry?"

Shouto's voice broke through my thoughts, causing me to jump slightly at the unexpected interaction. I glanced over at him, my eyes resting on his face as if to double check if it indeed had been him who had spoken. He was staring at me again.

"Are you hungry?" he repeated.

"N-no!" I gasped right as a loud growl escaped from my stomach. Shouto smirked.

"Let's go eat somewhere." he said. It was more of a command than a suggestion, and I felt the blush returning to my cheeks again.

"But… But I'm not…"

"You're hungry." he observed coolly. He was still smirking. "I'm offering to take you out. Please let me." My blush increased tenfold.

"Okay… Okay…" I murmured softly, doing my best to contain my embarrassment and anticipation.

The two of us walked — mostly in silence — toward a ramen shop several blocks away. I felt a peculiar fluttering feeling in the pit of my stomach the entire time as Shouto asked for a table, managing to get us one that was outdoors that we could enjoy the pleasant evening air. I sat with him at the table, sipping a cup of iced tea as we waited for our food to come.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked me in a soft voice. He was staring at me over the rim of his glass, which he was holding to his face while he spoke.

"I guess so," I replied. "The workplace experience was a good way to take my mind off of things."

"Indeed." he said stiffly after swallowing his drink. We lapsed back into silence for a moment. "What was your mother's hero name?" I was taken aback, almost spilling my tea in response to his question.

"W-why…?" I said through a fit of coughs. "To ask me that so suddenly…"

"I'm only wondering because my father is the number two hero," he explained coolly. "If your mother was a villain, maybe I've heard something about her. Although I suppose if we don't know her villain name, it may not be much help."

"I… Uhm, I think that it was Heaven's Gate." I said softly. "At least, that's what my father told me. But I've known him to be dishonest about matters concerning my mother."

"What a shock, a father not telling you the whole truth of a situation." Shouto remarked bitterly.

I wanted to ask him about his own mother, and her relationship with his father. Somehow, I figured that this could not possibly be an appropriate moment to pry into that sort of thing. I quickly found myself wondering where Shouto's mother was; if Shouto's mother, had she been a hero, had ever encountered my own; if the two of them would have liked each other had they ever crossed paths. These musings dashed away from me as Shouto began speaking again.

"What makes you think All Might killed your mother?" he asked. I shrugged.

"It's just a feeling," I confessed. I glanced across the street, my eyes following the cars that passed us and a couple of families that were walking together. "He knew her. He was the one who told me the truth about her."

"I bet your old man loved that." Shouto scoffed. I smiled; it was somewhere between a cringe and a smile, at least.

"Yeah, not to mention that the two of them don't get along very well," I continued. "It would make more sense if it turns out All Might is the one that did it."

"I can't imagine that Aizawa-sensei is the sort of person to hold a grudge like that." Shouto commented. I nodded slowly.

"Yes… That's true." I said, my gaze softening. "He isn't a bitter person. He's a hero, after all…"

"Don't speak so soon," Shouto chuckled darkly. "Heroes can be bitter people, too." I was sure that at that moment, Shouto was thinking about his father.

Our food arrived shortly after. Two steaming bowls of ramen were placed in front of us, and for a long while there was no talking, only the sounds of slurping and air as the two of us blew on our noodles to cool them down. Every now and then I would catch Shouto looking at me, but each time our gazes met his eyes would dart away from me. He seemed a little bit nervous, but I could not imagine why that was.

"Every evening." Shouto's words broke through the silence suddenly.

The two of us had been sitting with our empty bowls, people-watching instead of talking to one another. My one eye slid over to him, searching his face for some kind of explanation. He shot me a small smile. One did not often see Todoroki Shouto smile, but somehow it seemed to happen quite a lot when he was around me. That thought made me smile, too.

"Every evening what?" I asked.

Shouto dropped some money on the table and stood up, walking over to where I was sitting. He looked down at me.

"Every evening after we leave my father's agency, we should get dinner." he insisted.

My one eye widened, quite shocked at the invitation. His eyes darted away from me, and I thought I saw a faint pinkish hue in his cheeks.

"Really?" I muttered, confused. "Why?"

"I'll pay for it." he continued, clearly not wanting to explain.

"That just makes me wonder why even more." I said stonily, straightening up to join him in walking back toward the train station.

"Because I want to." he said stiffly. He paused, his eyes darting to me and then swiftly away again. "And because it seems like it would be nice." I felt a smile tug at my lips.

"Alright," I replied at last as we boarded our train to head home.

"And I already said I'd pay, anyways…"

"Shouto, I said alright, already." I reminded him. He froze, realizing his mistake. He had obviously been prepared for me to put up a fight.

"Oh…" he muttered as he gazed out of the window. "Good." I could not help but grin ear to ear.

The next day the two of us got dinner again, speaking animatedly with one another about our families, our Quirks, about school. We conspired about whether or not Ochaco and Izuku would ever end up together. We wondered how Tenya was doing now that his brother could no longer be a hero. We wondered whether or not Todoroki Enji would ever be able to get the stick that was clearly shoved up his ass out and behave like a real hero.

Neither of us knew that it would be our last dinner together during our workplace experience.

* * *

Our third day of work experience had, at least in the beginning, gone just like any other day. It was clear and sunny out, and Shouto and I had been following Endeavor and his sidekicks as we tackled various small crimes throughout the city. We had come to the Hosu area that day to scout for Hero Killer Stain, but had up until that point turned up empty. Tensions between Shouto and Endeavor were, as usual, quite high, but Shouto seemed to be handling it well. Before we knew it evening was upon us, and the three of us were fixing to head back to the agency building.

"Tomorrow we will return to Hosu," Endeavor told us as we walked down the sidewalk. I could have sworn that I saw Shouto roll his eyes. "We need to continue to seek out that Hero Killer. Who knows where he could be lurking."

"Indeed…" I heard Shouto mutter, but I did not think that Endeavor was truly paying us any attention. "How are your feet, Daichi?" Shouto asked, turning toward me. I shot him a small smile.

"They're hangin' in there!" I said with the most energy that I could muster after our long day.

I felt something stir within my mind, something that wanted to say something more than that, but I ignored it. The voice in my head had left me alone mostly the day before, but every now and then I could feel something within myself — something that did not feel like me — tugging at my consciousness, trying to pull me in another direction.

"Where should we go tonight for dinner?" Shouto asked. I noticed that he was keeping his voice low, probably because he did not want Endeavor to butt in.

"We could —"

Before I could finish my thought a loud crash erupted from nearby. My face shot toward the noise, my one good eye widening as I watched the scene before me unfold. Dozens of gangly creatures were flying through the air, scuttling across the concrete. Screams from citizens and yelled orders from heroes began to meet my ears while I continued to watch the creature writhe across the city.

"These are…" Shouto murmured darkly, his eyes narrowing at one of the monsters that had gotten a little too close for comfort. I nodded.

"Shigaraki Tomura's henchmen," I said. I narrowed my eye at the creature approaching me, rocking back on me heels as I allowed my temperature to spike. I groped at the asfalt around me with my mind. "Nomu."

A moment later Shouto and I were forced to dodge as the Nomu took a swing at us. Enormous flames engulfed it a second later, Endeavor standing triumphantly behind the burnt creature. I could not tell whether he was annoyed or excited. Another Nomu came dashing at us but before it could even get close Endeavor had sent his flames for it. I had to hand it to him, he sure lived up to his number two hero status.

I saw a small person — dressed in yellow and white — zoom through the air. He and Endeavor met in the center of the road, looking as though they were discussing something as the two of them fought the creatures together. A loud screech to my right alerted me of another Nomu. I leaned down, dragging my toes across the debris-littered concrete.

A ring of dirt particles lifted at my command, and a moment later they were around the Nomu's throat, my Quirk fashioning the dirt into a ropelike appendage. I swung my hand around in the air and the Nomu followed suit; I released my hand from being in a fist, my fingers dancing through the air as I simultaneously released the Nomu from its bindings. I felt vaguely like a cowboy; the Nomu went soaring through the air.

"Stop looking at your phone, Shouto, look at me!" I heard Endeavor say from several yards away.

I felt something vibrate on my hip, and I realized with a jolt that my own phone was receiving a message. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, clicking the home button so that the screen would be illuminated. I made a face, staring at the message. Izuku had dropped a pin and sent it to basically everyone in class. My eyebrow furrowed incredulously, and I glanced up to look at Shouto. Our gazes met, and I nodded.

"Shouto, Aizawa, where are you going?" Endeavor yelled as the two of us hopped on top of the chunk of concrete I had pulled out of the ground.

"The narrow lane by Ekou street, 4-2-10." Shouto called over his shoulder. "When you're done if there are any heroes who've got their hands free we'll be requesting backup." Endeavor looked flabbergasted.

"Our friend may be in trouble!" I said loudly as I moved the chunk of concrete around the corner of a building. "When you've finished, please come!"

It seemed like in no time at all we had arrived at the location Izuku had sent us. I allowed the rock to drop to the ground as sweat dripped down the back of my neck. We were standing in the mouth of a very dark alleyway, but the loud noises that met my ears told me that the alleyway was far from empty. Izuku was down there. Who he was fighting, only time could tell.

"Daichi, let's go," Shouto muttered. I wanted to protest, feeling my heart flutter as we made our way into the alleyway. I could not stop him, and I could not stop myself, either.

Up ahead I could hear voices, yelling, and other loud noises. Shouto reacted before I could even ascertain the situation at hand. An enormous wall of fire went shooting out in front of us, and I heard a snarl from up ahead. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I could see Izuku laying on the ground, and Tenya, too. There was another hero with them who I did not recognize. The person that Shouto's attack had been aimed at, however, was an entirely different story. As I looked at him, there was not a doubt in my mind of who this person was despite never having seen him before.

"Hero Killer Stain," I said under my breath. I felt as though I might choke on my own words

"My work keeps getting interrupted," he snarled. I saw Tenya glance at us from his place on the ground.

"Todoroki, that's your left side…?" Izuku squeaked. Shouto said nothing.

"Todoroki… Aizawa… Why're you here?" he managed from his place on the ground. I made a face, raising my arm through the air to bring a pillar of earth up abruptly from beneath Stain's feet.

"Hey, dumbass, that's our line." I retorted.

I ducked low to the ground while speaking, dragging my foot in front of me. A wall of earth sprung up in the wake of my foot. Remaining in a squatting position I brought both hands in front of my face, balling them into fists; I knocked both fists together several times, causing the wall to break up into smaller bits.

"Shouto," I muttered, to which Shouto nodded.

A second later spikes of ice appeared on each chunk of earth. I sent them hurling, one after the other, in Stain's direction in between intermittent bursts from Shouto's left side. Stain dodged one attack after the other, though just by watching him I could tell that he was slowing down.

"Todoroki, Daichi-chan, don't let him cut you!"

As Izuku spoke Stain appeared closer to us; I sent several chunks of ice-covered earth hurdling in his direction, which he dodged. Shouto pressed his lips into a firm line, concentrating as he sent another fire attack toward him. He had been practicing with his left side throughout our time with Endeavor, but it was plain to see that he still had minimal control over it.

"My guess is this guy can paralyze people by ingesting their blood orally! That's how we all got taken down!"

"So that's what the blade's about, huh?" Shouto muttered, keeping his eyes on Stain.

"Luckily, you and I are suited for long range attacks," I said. It was half to reassure myself, and half to reassure Shouto.

I crouched again, hitting my fists against the ground. Two pillars sprung up on either side of my hands and I stood up, stretching out my fingers as straight as the could go. As Shouto followed Stain with a mixture of ice and fire, I chopped at each pillar of earth with my stiff hands, sending discs of concrete flying into Stain's path every chance I got. I watched as one landed heavily in the middle of his chest, sending him flying back to crash on the ice that Shouto had made.

Shouto and I holding our own against Stain was short-lived, however. My one eye widened as a small dagger was sent flying in our direction, nicking Shouto's cheek ever so slightly. Stain sneered widely, his long tongue dancing around his lips as blood dripped down the side of Shouto's face.

"You've got some nice pals, haven't you, Ingenium?" he snickered. I looked at Tenya, confusion showing on my face. Had he adopted his brother's hero name?

I did not have much time to ponder this. Not a moment later, Stain was darting for Shouto and I, his blade swinging through the air. He was almost too fast for the eye to follow, but I knew what goal he had in mind. My eye slid over to watch the blood dripping down Shouto's face before moving toward Stain, who had moved past us and picked up the dagger he had thrown. My heart sank.

"Shouto —!"

Shouto's eyes widened in shock as he turned around, watching in horror as Stain lucked the miniscule amount of blood of of the tip of the dagger. I knew that Shouto could no longer move. Stain grinned, tossing the dagger to the ground before darting for Shouto: I reacted without thinking. A wall of earth sprung up between Shouto and Stain. Stain growled, grabbing the sword that he had thrown through the air and leaping to the side, closer to me. Shouto, at least for now, was surrounded entirely by rock. I crouched, raising both my hands, preparing myself.

"You plan to take me by yourself, then?" he said, sneering at me. I said nothing.

A moment later he was darting toward me. I ducked low, avoiding the cutting edge of his blade while sending a chunk of earth to knock into his knee. I heard Stain growl as his knee buckled in response to the rock; I bent backward, doing my best to roll away quickly while he was occupied. My eye slid back toward the walls of rock that were shielding Shouto. I did not know for how long he would be unable to move.

"Don't let your mind wander, child,"

Stain's voice broke through my thoughts. I was barely able to dodge, my eye widening as I watched his blade slice off some of my hair. I rolled away again, keeping low to the ground so that I could dodge and move better. I made to slam my palm into the ground, ready for my next attack. That was when I noticed it; that was when I noticed that I could no longer move.

"Too slow," Stain growled. I watched as his tongue moved along the edge of his blade, and I felt my stomach churn.

" _Well, Daichi, what will you do?_ "

As I surveyed the scene before me, it could not be more clear to me that the five of us were in serious trouble. Tenya lay, incapacitated, on the concrete next to a pro hero that I did not recognize. Izuku was beginning to move, but there was no telling how long it would take for Stain's Quirk to fully wear off to the point where he would have the ability to fight again. Shouto was still behind the rock defenses that I had sent up after he had been incapacitated by Stain, through which I could barely make out his eyes watching me.

We had shown up without a plan, and now I was being punished for it.

The cut on my arm stung as though I were being attacked by a swarm of bees. I was unsure how I had not noticed it when it happened; I assumed it was the adrenaline. From where I stood, I watched as Stain continued to lick my blood from his lips. My stomach churned at the sight of it. My body was unable to move an inch, and Stain was closing in on me fast. I had to come up with a plan, I had to do something, but my mind was finding it difficult to focus.

" _You can't move,_ " the voice in my head hissed. I felt the color drain from my face as Stain took another step closer. " _You can't move. But I can._ "

"You'll help me?" I whispered, my gaze refusing to leave Stain as he closed in on me.

" _It's my job to help you,_ " the voice replied. " _It's my only job._ "

In my mind's eye it was almost as though I could see that creature from my dream, speaking to me, reaching out toward me. Its claws clinked together as its hand beckoned me. I felt my heart flutter as Stain's blade grazed the concrete; he was very close, now.

"How?" I asked, closing my eye. In my mind I saw the creature smile.

I could no longer tell if it was my imagination, or if it was actually there, fully present within my mind. I was beginning to feel that itch again, the one that crawled up my spine, tingling beneath my skin.

" _You let me worry about that,_ " it said. Its claws danced through my consciousness. " _All you need to do is let me in. Don't fight me anymore._ "

"Will I still be here?" My voice had begun to quiver. The creature smiled, long teeth gnashing together in excitement.

" _You will be here as long as I am here,_ " it answered. I began to reach toward its hand. " _We are one, you and I. I am yours, and you are mine._ " it explained.

"What do I call you?" I asked. Its hand was still outstretched.

" _I am Vi._ "

I shut my eye, and inside my mind I reached out toward its hand. Its hand encompassed my own, several times larger than the size of my hand, its claws grasping me tightly. Its smile broadened.

" _This is all you need to do._ "

That was when I felt it. As Stain closed in on me, sword raised, I felt the itching feeling in my spine begin to stretch and contort. I felt the heat of my fever dissipate, my body feeling suddenly quite numb, as though my nerves had been shocked by the spike and dissipation of my fever. I held in a scream as I felt something like a tear erupt down my back; it felt as though my body were being unzipped. Without having realized it I had opened my mouth, speaking words that I could not recall ever having had the intention of saying.

 _"Incubation terminated: Initiate infection!"_

A loud rumble drew my attention to my sides, where two enormous arms had suddenly appeared. I knew those arms: they were the arms of the creature in my dream. My back felt raw, as though something had clawed its way out of it. When I moved my eye to glance upward, I realized why.

The creature was perched above me. Its skin, with its familiar pink and white sheen, glistened in the low light of the alley we were in. It gnashed its teeth, its eyeless face gazing around the alleyway with interest. Each time it moved, I felt the skin on my back tug uncomfortably; that was when I was forced to reckon with the fact that this creature was an irremovable part of me.

Shouto was staring at me from his place next to Izuku. The rock walls surrounding him had dissipated with the appearance of the creature. His eyes were wide, moving from my face upwards to gaze at the creature that had just sprouted from my back. Stain had stopped moving, and was also looking upwards, taking stock of his new opponent. The creature moved again, the ground shaking as its arms tilted forward and its neck elongated, twisting down to meet my gaze.

" _Here I am!_ " it said with glee, its long teeth exposed as it smiled at me. " _That's him, right? The hero killer?_ " Stain narrowed his eyes incredulously. I made a 'mm-hm' noise in the back of my throat, the best response that I could muster. The creature's smile widened. " _Sit tight, Dai-chan!_ "

My own body, still unable to move, dangled limply from the body of the creature as it continued to grow out of my own back. It picked up one enormous limb, swatting at Stain with its claws. He dodged but only barely. My jaw was slack, my mind still not fully grasping what was going on. The creature tugged at my skin with every move it made; its neck was stretching, following Stain while gnashing its teeth. I heard Stain growl as one of the creature's long teeth sliced through his leg.

" _Dai-chan, hang on!_ " the creature — Vi was its name — said gleefully.

I felt a third arm sprout from its body, which held me close to it. My one eye slid down, realizing that the creature had sprouted legs of its own, though its main body was still attached to my back. I began to feel myself panic. Izuku was beginning to push himself up off of the ground, and Vi was still holding Stain off by chasing after him with one of its many appendages.

I realized with shock that each part of its body was comprised of even smaller versions of itself, which wriggled and writhed and screeched as they elongated and shrank at Vi's command. Three of these smaller creatures elongated as I watched, cackling as they sped toward Stain and grabbed his ankle, throwing him into the wall.

"I… I feel… I feel sick…"

" _Dai-chan, you have to hold on!_ " Vi yelled. From below I could see that Shouto was still staring at me. " _I'm not strong enough to be here on my own, yet, you gotta be conscious!_ "

"I c… can't…" My vision was beginning to turn blurry. The pain in my back and my exertion were combining, and I did not know for how much longer I could hold on.

"Daichi, let go!" Shouto called from down below. I realized suddenly that Vi had managed to hold Stain off long enough for Shouto and the others to regroup. Each of them were now moving on their own. "I'll catch you!" he continued. I felt myself giving him a weak smile; the pain in my back increased.

" _Dai-chan, no!_ " Vi growled. " _Don't you do it! Don't listen to that freak, just hold on!_ "

"B… But I'm… So tired…"

I could feel my consciousness slipping, a smile still on my face as I stared at Shouto below me, arms outstretched, willing to catch a girl with a creature sprouting from her back. In my mind I felt Vi's anger increase, billowing across my consciousness like flames picked up by the wind. It was an odd sensation, feeling someone else's feelings within you. Vi tugged at my back, and I felt my eye roll into the back of my head. I could not hold on any longer.

" _Daichi, no!_ " Vi screamed. I closed my eye, and I felt myself fall.

That was the last thing I remembered from that day.

* * *

 **As always, thank you for your support! reviews, favorites and follows are always greatly appreciated~**


	16. Dissociating

" _In the end you're just a tool for violence, made to keep up down. And violence only breeds more violence."_

* * *

A blinding light met my eye as I opened them. I cringed, raising a hand to shield my one good eye from the early morning sun that was filtering through my window. Then, my heart dropped. The last thing that I remembered was fighting with Stain in the alleyway, and I was no longer in the alley. Where were Izuku and Tenya? Where was Shouto? I glanced around the room desperately, trying to determine just where I was while struggling to keep my panic in check.

The room that I was in was almost completely white. The walls, the floors, the sheets, the upholstery on the chair next to my bed. A panicked thought suddenly danced across my mind: was this some strange version of the afterlife? I made to swing my legs out of bed until I realized that I was hooked up to an IV drip. The needle in my arm had started to tug at my skin uncomfortably.

" _I think we're in the hospital._ "

I jumped, realizing with a jolt that I was not alone. Slowly, very slowly, I turned my head to gaze in the direction from which the voice had come: from behind. My one good eye settled on the tiny creature twisted around the headboard of my bed. Its eyeless face was fixed on my own, that familiar yet still foreign lipless smile leering at me, sending chills down my spine. Instinctively I made to move away, but that only resulted in a tight tug on the skin on my back. The creature was obviously still connected to me.

" _I already told you, my name is Vi._ " it continued. It sounded a little annoyed with me. " _Not the creature'._ "

"Sorry," I mumbled. I turned away from Vi, once again glancing around the room to try to get my bearings. "The hospital, huh?"

" _Not any old hospital,_ " it said slyly. I arched an eyebrow. " _I think we're in the mental hospital._ "

"What?" I breathed in disbelief. Vi chuckled darkly.

" _I expected for the end of my incubation period to be a little tough on you, mentally and physically._ " Vi mused. " _Melding your mind to another is probably very taxing._ "

"No kidding." I replied bitterly, rolling my eye in response. Vi frowned slightly.

" _I saved your life. You're welcome._ "

"You landed me in the mental hospital," I retorted. "How did that happen, exactly?"

" _You weren't entirely unconscious when the Pros finally got there,_ " Vi explained lazily. " _But our consciousnesses were too mixed up, all jumbled around. I think your disorientation at my emergence sent up some red flags._ "

"Perfect." I muttered darkly as I curled my legs up under my chin. "Just perfect."

" _Hero Killer Stain is dead,_ " Vi said airily. My eye widened in shock. " _Your friends held their own. A broken rib pierced the Hero Killer's lung and he died._ "

"I see…" I murmured listlessly. Vi shifted their position, stretching out toward me.

" _Todoroki was the least injured. Izuku and Tenya seemed alright by the end of it all, but I'm sure they had to make their own hospital trips._ "

"Not the mental hospital most likely."

" _Probably not._ " Vi chuckled.

The two of us lapsed into a tense silence. Vi began fiddling with the clock radio on my bedside table as I gazed out of the brightly lit window absently, the different stations buzzing almost melodically in the background. I wondered vaguely if my father would come to visit; I wondered if he was afraid of me now that I had this strange sentient creature sprouting from my spine. I thought back to the alley, remembering how Shouto had reached out to me and caught me when I was about to lose consciousness. He had seemed concerned, confused, but not afraid. I suppose that was one of the better sides of our society filled with strange Quirks– people were no longer as superficially judgemental as they once were.

I jumped a little as the door to my room slid open. A nurse stepped in, greeting me with a soft "good morning" before setting to work on checking my vitals. I held in a laugh as the nurse attempted to check Vi's vital signs; the creature dodged the stethoscope each time, hissing in a manner vaguely reminiscent of a feline each time the cool metal grazed its skin.

" _I don't have organs, dumbass!_ " Vi screeched as the nurse held Vi down. The woman paused, glancing at me. I shrugged. " _I live off of Dai-chan, I don't need organs!_ "

"You're parasitic, huh?" I murmured, my tone slightly teasing. Vi frowned.

" _I prefer the term symbiotic, thanks,_ " it said. Despite myself, I laughed. " _Like I said, I saved your life!_ "

" _Our_ life." I corrected.

" _Whatever._ "

The nurse pulled away, scrawling a few things on the clipboard that she had been holding under her shoulder. Vi watched her intently– I was not sure how Vi watched people without eyes– its head bobbing along to the sound of the pen scratching against the paper. The nurse tucked the clipboard under her arm again.

"Your father called early this morning," she informed me as she took a seat next to my bed. "He says that he will be here this evening to visit you, and with any luck he will be able to take you home either tomorrow or the next day."

"I don't understand why I'm here," I told her, doing my best to keep my voice level. The nurse nodded slowly.

"You were having seizures when you were brought the the hospital with your classmates," she explained. "While drifting in and out of consciousness you were talking to yourself but in two different voices. We just wanted to make sure you were stable, so we decided to transfer you here." I nodded slowly as Vi twisted around my shoulders playfully. I was sure that Vi resembled a very strange looking fox fur, like the kind that rich women sometimes wore around their shoulders. "Now that we know the cause of the other voice it's less concerning, but we'll probably keep you overnight for observation."

" _Pfft! Observation!_ " Vi scoffed. If Vi had had eyes, I was sure they would be rolling. " _Get us outta here, I'm bored!_ "

"No one cares, Vi." I snapped. Vi scowled. The nurse smiled. It was half comforting but half awkward.

"If you would like, some of the more stable patients tend to stay in the common area during the day." the nurse told me. "There are board games, things like that."

" _Those things are for kids!_ " Vi yelled.

"I'm a kid, basically." I said, snapping at Vi again.

" _Does my opinion not matter here?_ " Vi replied, clearly growing agitated. I rolled my eye, sighing heavily.

"Sure it does, Vi."

" _Don't patronize me!_ "

The nurse stood up from the chair, making her way toward the door as the two of us continued to bicker. I clamped my hand firmly over Vi's mouth, turning toward the nurse before she stepped out of the door.

"So we're allowed to walk around outside of the room?" The nurse smiled gently at my tentative question.

"Of course."

I clambered out of bed, slipping the slippers that were placed on the ground gingerly onto my feet. I felt Vi curl over my shoulder, shimmying through the short curtain of peach colored hair the stopped at my shoulders. I was surprised that my hair had grown so long, but I found that I kind of liked it. Vi tugged at the ends of my hair to get my attention.

" _Hey, hey,_ " Vi said emphatically. " _If we're gonna play a game, let's play shogi!_ "

The two of us stepped into the hallway. I glanced around, my eye falling a sign which pointed in the direction of the common area. The hospital was fairly quiet, save for a few phone rings and distant chatter. My slippers scuffed against the tile floors as I walked toward the common area, Vi still draped over my shoulder lazily.

The common area was more full than I had expected. Other patients, also clad in white, were sitting in different areas doing various activities. A few were painting in a corner by the windows, while another group was quietly playing a card game in another corner. My gaze fell on a set of shelves across from me, which held board games.

I made my way over to the shelves, Vi beginning to bounce eagerly around my neck while singing "shogi, shogi, shogi" in my ear. I sighed, letting my one eye slide shut momentarily as I came to stand in front of the shelf. I glanced around for a second, looking for any sign of shogi. There was none.

" _No shogi?_ " Vi whined sadly.

Vi let themselves flop across my chest, clearly upset about the board game selection. I sighed, making to pick up a deck of cards.

"Did you two want to play?"

A sudden voice from my left made me jump, dropping the pack of cards that I had just picked up. Vi arched their body around my neck, peering in the direction from which the voice had come. A sudden cry of excitement from Vi alerted me to the fact that the owner of the voice was probably the person who was using the shogi board. I looked over, my eyes coming to rest on a young woman who was sitting alone at a table by the window.

She was very beautiful. Her long white hair draped over her shoulders languidly, and her cool grey eyes regarded Vi and I with a fondness that I was sure neither of us deserved. She was wearing exactly what I was wearing, which told me that she was also a patient.

"The two of you are welcome to join me," she said softly, gesturing toward the game in front of her. "If you like."

I nodded slowly, allowing myself to be pulled toward the woman and the game by an overjoyed Vi. I stopped just short of the chair, smacking Vi on the head in an attempt to get them to calm down. The woman chuckled; it was almost too soft for me to hear. I took a seat opposite of her, meeting her eyes.

"I'm Daichi," I murmured while Vi continued to bob excitedly through the air. "That's Vi." The woman smiled.

"My name is Rei."

I sat down opposite of the woman. Her white hair was almost indistinguishable from the white clothes the she wore. They matched the other patients, the same as mine. The two of us stared at one another for a long while, neither of us speaking. The soft babble of the other patients warbled in and out of my ears, almost indistinguishable against the deafening silence, the tenseness, that was between us. I could not quite tell why, but there was something quite familiar about this woman.

"So, Daichi," she said at last. Her voice was soft, calming. It was a mother's voice. I found myself suddenly missing my mother, though I barely remembered her. Rei slid one of the pieces on the board to another space. "You're new here?"

"I don't think I'll be here long." I told her. I tentatively slid another piece across the board. Rei shot me a terse smile.

"We all think that." she murmured. I froze.

"I'm not supposed to be here." I said.

I did not move another piece, instead leaning back in my chair to glare out of the window. Vi was beginning to tug at the skin on my back impatiently, but I ignored them. Rei was staring at me, now, half inquisitively, half confused. She tapped a shogi piece on my side of the board, indicating that I should move it; I did not oblige.

"Tell me, Daichi, why are you here?" she asked me calmly.

Vi had grown impatient, and had decided to take it upon themselves to slide the shogi piece that Rei had indicated to another space. I kept my one eye fixed on Rei. Much of me wanted to seek comfort in her– she reminded me vaguely of my own mother. The rest of me was apprehensive, suspicious. I was not used to a mother; I did not know what she meant by behaving as though she was concerned about me.

"My Quirk manifested." I told her at last. Vi had taken over the shogi board, playing against themselves as Rei and I sized each other up. "People don't seem very comfortable with it."

"Don't most Quirks manifest by the age of four?" she asked. I bit my lip.

"It appears mine chose to manifest in stages," I explained slowly. The shuffling noise of Vi moving the shogi pieces was the only other thing that I was clearly aware of. "I guess it seems suspicious. I guess that people are afraid of it."

"This is your Quirk, then?" Rei inquired, nodding in Vi's direction as she spoke. Vi ignored her.

"Part of it, anyway," I said. Rei nodded.

"I understand." she whispered. She placed her hands in her lap, and turned to gaze out of the window. "I have a son… He is likely close to your age. It was his Quirk, his appearance, which put me here."

"Your son…?" I repeated, unable to disguise the surprise in my tone. Rei shot me a soft, guilty smile.

"His father and I… Well, it's complicated." she explained. "We did not have a good relationship. I saw so much of him in my son– in part of his Quirk– and eventually it became my undoing." I was now staring at my lap. "I hurt him… I hurt him terribly. Not only physically, but mentally. I do not doubt that this is where I need to be."

"I'm sure that wherever he is, he forgives you."

"Perhaps," Rei said solemnly. "Even if I'm his mother, I can't be certain."

"I forgave my mother," I whispered. Rei froze. Her grey eyes were fixed on me. "I found out she was a villain. She died, but I forgive her. I wish that she was still alive, so that I could tell her that it's alright. That she's human. That there are things that I don't and cannot ever understand." I continued. I did not know why I was telling this stranger all of these things, but there was something about her that made me feel quite comfortable. "But I can't. My mother is dead. At least you and your son can still make amends. You can still tell one another that you love each other." Rei smiled again.

"You're very wise for someone your age." she said fondly. I snorted through my nose in exasperation.

"Tell that to my father. He'd never believe you."

" _No kidding!_ " Vi exclaimed, but the two of us ignored them. Rei slid a shogi piece forward, obliging Vi's eagerness to play.

"Your father seems quite stern,"

"Tell me about it," I said bitterly as Vi moved another piece. "He's a pro hero, I guess I should expect as much."

"I see!" Rei said, laughing and sighing almost in unison. "Who is your father?"

"Aizawa Shouta," I told her blandly. "Eraserhead." Rei froze.

"Ah, of course…" she murmured. "I should have known… After all, you look so much like her…" I raise my eyebrows. "Shigaraki Izanami, I mean."

I stood up abruptly, sending my chair toppeling backwards. It clattered against the tile floor, breaking the intermittent chatter that flowed through the common room. Rei's eyes widened slightly, but she did not seemed surprised. I stared at her, astonished.

"My… my mother…" I whispered hoarsely. Vi curled around my neck, regarding Rei with renewed interest. "You knew my mother…?"

"Daichi?"

I jumped, the new and unexpected voice startling me from behind. It was a voice that I knew quite well. I turned in place slowly, knowing exactly who it was that I would find standing behind me. Sure enough, none other than Todoroki Shouto was standing in the hallways that lead to the common room. His two toned hair stood out against the white walls of the hospital, his mismatched eyes marred with surprise a curiosity. I suddenly realized I had forgotten to breathe.

"S… S-Shouto…" I muttered, tripping over my words. "What're you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same," he replied.

My eyes traveled to his arms, which were covered in bandages. I could only assume what injuries lay beneath them, likely a parting gift from the Hero Killer. Before I could say anything more Rei had stood up, too, facing Shouto head on.

"Shouto," she said softly. I turned to her, looking back and forth between the two of them confusedly. "I wasn't sure if you would come today."

"You know him?" I asked, pointing in Shouto's direction, briefly forgetting my manners. Rei gave me a soft smile.

"But of course I do." she said. "I've already told you about him."

I turned back toward Shouto, shock evident in my expression. His lips were pulled taught in an awkward, tense line across his face. At last he met my gaze, his eyes searching mine for something to work with.

"Well, there's no use." he said at last. Vi and I continued to stare at him, completely at a loss for words. "It seems that you've finally met my mother."

* * *

 **hello all! i'm very sorry for the short chapter. i broke my hand a couple weeks ago, and so it's very difficult to type anything too long. i should be getting my cast off two fridays from now, so expect more chapters when that time comes, but i wanted to give you something small in the meantime! thank you very much for your support, it means so much! as always reviews are appreciated, and i thank you for your patience while i heal so that i can get back to writing!**


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